


Freckles And Stardust

by youaresunlight



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Lifeguards, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Coda, Deaf Castiel, Deaf Dean, Kid Fic, M/M, Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:06:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 21,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youaresunlight/pseuds/youaresunlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr fics that were too short to post here individually. Each chapter is a different story and tags will be updated accordingly. All fics were originally posted at puppycastiel.tumblr.com.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Green (High School AU)

Cas noticed Dean Winchester five minutes after transferring to Lawrence High. Inevitable, really, since Dean was put in charge of showing the new kid around the facilities. He was an academic star, according to their principal, “on track to be valedictorian” and “Honor Society president.” Cas stopped listening to the man partway through, not because he wasn’t interested, but because he was too captivated by the constellation of freckles across Dean’s nose.

The tour itself became boring fast. A high school is just a high school, after all, and Castiel couldn’t care less about state-of-the-art lighting in the auditorium. But Dean. Oh, Dean was the antithesis of boring. Cas was fascinated by him, his lips, the way he kept pushing those huge glasses back up his face. The dark frames and lenses obscured his features somewhat, though Cas could still make out long lashes and a pair of magnificently green eyes. He instantly liked how they met and fled his gaze, and how they widened when Cas leaned against the lockers, making his shirt ride up to reveal a tattoo.

They talked occasionally after that, mostly run-ins in the hallway between periods and during physics, the only class they shared. It was obvious that Dean was smart, but he was also thoughtful and shy and serious, and it was barely any time at all before seeing Dean became the best part of Castiel’s day.

Then one bleary autumn afternoon, Dean walked into class and Cas’ heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and, god, his eyes, they were  _radiant._  Cas had never in his life seen a shade of green so thoroughly beguiling. Dean, however, appeared restless as though he felt vulnerable without them, and Cas wanted nothing more than to reach over and wipe away the pink smudged over those cheekbones.

That served as Cas’ impetus to find Dean after school, as if the shock of emerald had been a blaring green light for the feelings he’d kept to himself. Dean blinked at him, wide and searching, mouth lush and parted all pretty, and his gasp sounded loud in the empty wing when Cas leaned in, tenderly pressing their lips together. Cas let Dean set the pace, loved the weight of Dean’s hands fisted in the front of his shirt, and at the first chance of breath he told Dean that his eyes were beautiful. Dean said Castiel’s reminded him of the rain.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

“Dean, look at me,” Cas smiles, his forefinger tucking under Dean’s chin, raising it so the boy would meet his eyes.

“Cas…” Dean demurs, tries to hide his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, and it’s a little stubborn but also adorable so Cas relents, sighs indulgently when Dean’s body curls toward his.

He ghosts his fingertips along Dean’s back, the skin flushed and sweaty, the sheet covering them thin yet somehow too hot, confining. The come drying on his own stomach is sticky and uncomfortable and they’ll have to move to shower eventually. But right now, Dean is lazily tracing the inked feather on his hipbone, and Cas doesn’t want the touch to end.

“I love your eyes,” he murmurs into ash brown hair, laughing at the answering groan, always embarrassed, evasive of compliments.

“You said so already,” Dean teases, his tone fond and forbearing, and he hums happily at Cas bending his head down to capture his mouth in another kiss.

“I’ll tell you until you believe it,” Cas promises, softly biting at Dean’s lower lip, drawing out a quiet moan. “I love your eyes, Dean. I love what they look like when they’re mine… I love you.”

He feels Dean’s hands push gently into his hair, cupping his nape just as he hears, “I love you too.” His lips curve upward and he pulls Dean close by his waist, his entire world narrowing to green and freckles and soft kisses, to his Dean, brilliant Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/101800652965/deancas-green)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	2. Definition (Jensen/Misha)

When Misha wakes up, there is a weight pressing into his side. Pleasantly warm and solid and steady, and it holds him in place, though nowhere he doesn’t want to be. “Jensen,” he murmurs, angling his head to drop a kiss wherever he can reach. He cradles the shoulders in his arm a little tighter, keeps his lips buried in tufts of ash brown hair as he waits.

Eventually, Jensen moves, blinking both eyes open against the sunlight. They’re bleary at first, not really looking anywhere, and Misha studies them quietly, smiling when they meet his gaze. Jensen blinks again, smiles back, the curve of his mouth mesmerizing and beautiful. He rests his chin on Misha’s chest, watching him, and Misha lets him snuggle even closer, and then-

“Morning, Dmitri.” 

Jensen’s voice is scratchy with sleep, and besides the teasing in his eyes, there’s a softness as well, deep, sincere, and true. Misha laughs and groans, because Jensen has  _really_  taken kindly to Misha returning to his roots, so to speak. It doesn’t even matter that Misha only knows maybe ten phrases by heart; he’d learn more if that’s what it would take for Jensen to never stop looking at him like that, full of heat.

“Gonna keep calling me that, huh?” Misha asks, tracing a fingertip down along Jensen’s cheek. He valiantly ignores the tightness in his chest when Jensen brushes his lips over the pulse point like a whisper.

“You love it,” Jensen replies.

Misha cups a hand to the back of his neck to tug him down.

It’s always more intimate like this, bathed in the morning light. They kiss longer and slower, giving in to the push and pull between their bodies. Misha moves languidly, listening to the soft, needing noises that escape Jensen’s lips, and when he opens Jensen up, the touch is gentle, almost reverent, the sighs guiding every dip and twist of his clever fingers.

“Mish,” Jensen breathes, strained, “I need-”

“I know, baby,” Misha soothes, and he affirms it all with a kiss.

He pushes Jensen into the bed, hovers over him, and Jensen’s legs fall open when Misha shifts to settle between them. Misha flattens his hands, brackets the jut of Jensen’s hipbones as he moves. He pushes forward then pulls back, going as slowly as he can, and Jensen protests only a little, letting Misha take control and set the pace. He also stays quiet save for these pretty, bitten-off moans, but the way his fingers dig into Misha’s back suggests that Misha is touching him just so, the pressure perfect.

“What did it mean?” Jensen wonders afterward, sweaty and sated, curled into Misha’s shoulder.

“Ty nuzhen mne? It means…” Misha pauses to swallow around a lump forming in his throat. He wasn’t sure Jensen had heard him, the words gasped into the crook of his neck amidst the pleasure. “It means ‘I need you.’”

“… That sounds familiar.”

Misha laughs and presses a kiss to Jensen’s temple, and there’s no forethought to it, a natural, simple display of affection. But Jensen’s eyes go wide and bright, and briefly it feels like there’s a confession on the tip of his tongue. In the end, though, he shakes his head, and relaxes against Misha, languorous in their afterglow.

It’s not until Misha begins to drift off himself that he hears Jensen murmur something, feels it tickling across his skin.

“Hmm? What, Jensen?”

“I said,” Jensen starts, and they are lying so, so close. “I said, I need you too.”

“Oh.”

His chest feels tight again but Jensen’s smiling with reassuring warmth, and it occurs to Misha now, once more, just how deeply, hopelessly he’s in love. The emotion grounds him yet makes him feel weightless all at the same time, and when Jensen looks at him shyly through his lashes, Misha shows him that he needs him, in every way that he knows how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/103575991088/jensen-misha-definition)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	3. Spaces Between Seconds (10.10 Coda)

Cas remembers Purgatory, remembers it being  _loud_ , which is a description most would deem nonsensical since for a land of abomination, the place is eerily silent. But that wasn’t the case - not for Cas. No, for him, the exile was the loudest his world had ever been.

He  _felt_  Dean, every night, a  _constant_  ache of longing and loneliness. It wracked his psyche so powerfully that it roared, and any attempt to shut it out was debilitating - like fighting with every last fiber of his existence.

Cas never slept, though Dean did and reached for the angel while he dreamed. There were desperate litanies of ‘Cas, I miss you. Where are you?’ but the worst was‘Why, Cas? Why did you leave me?’ because Cas felt the abandonment, the sharpness of Dean’s disbelief.

 _I’m sorry, Dean_.

The feeling softened when Dean found him by the stream, became brighter when Dean embraced him and smiled. It mellowed out and calmed, returning only at night when Dean pressed his body against Cas’ for warmth, and dry sobs caught in Castiel’s throat as he carded his fingers through the hunter’s still-soft hair.

 _I’ll miss you_.

Leviathans surrounded him the moment the portal closed. He fought each one while Dean screamed for him from the other side, and afterward he collapsed, uncaring that he was facedown in the mud. He clutched his ears, then his heart, then cried, wishing he could sink into the inky ground and disappear.

 _Dean_. The tears chased each other down his dirt-caked cheeks, and Cas hadn’t known that he could hurt like this, let alone cry.  _Dean,_   _I can’t come to you anymore_.  _I’m sorry_.  _I’m sorry_.

 _I love you_.

He could hardly believe it when Purgatory spat him out. He was exhausted as though he’d been gnawed to the bone, yet through it all he could sense the persistent thrum of longing. It’d never really faded but it was clearer, in Dean’s dimension, so Cas tried to respond, to return to where he belonged next to Dean. The journey took weeks - of popping up beside roads, outside of windows - always close but never enough. He landed on a tiled floor, on a day when the pull was particularly strong, and he breathed a sigh of relief as Dean spun around with widened eyes, realizing that he wouldn’t be zapped away, away from him.

He met Dean’s eyes, green and unbelieving, and said, “Hello, Dean.”

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” Dean asks over his beer, and Cas wonders if Dean has any idea that rarely does he  _not_  think about the hunter. He’s so attuned to him and knows that the longing has strengthened as of late, with Dean battling the Mark’s influence and wanting to rely on Cas to help. Dean is brilliant, so worthy and  _good_ , and this time, Cas can be there for him.

He  _will_ be there for him.

“I miss you,” he says quietly, and Dean blushes a little, though it may just be the trick of the light.

“I’m right here,” Dean replies gruffly, but doesn’t protest when Cas steps closer and presses his lips to the corner of Dean’s mouth.

“I know,” Cas says, and Dean huffs a laugh before hauling him back in for a kiss. Cas closes his eyes, and there’s a pulse of something soft and heartbreaking, a wave from Dean that replies, ‘I always miss you too.’

Cas smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/108793776815/dean-cas-spaces-between-seconds)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	4. Care Packages (10.11 Coda)

It starts with the kale.

The delivery guy looks a little bewildered, standing there outside the bunker. He called two minutes ago - "Hi, this is Peapod. I’m… here with your groceries?“ - and though Dean answered the door with a knife snuck in his back pocket, it quickly turned out that ‘groceries’ were indeed just groceries.

"Interesting place,” the man says, handing Dean a small device with a signature pad and an even tinier pen. “Please sign here?”

“Yeah.” Dean scribbles some illegible name while he eyes the parcel under the guy’s arm. “D'you have a record of who placed the order?”

“I sure do.” There’s some shuffling around and then, “Looks like a… Casteel? Castiel?” He glances up for guidance on the pronunciation but Dean’s too busy merely staring back. “Um, yeah. Castiel Winchester.”

Dean has no recollection of what happens between hearing  _that_  and bringing the package inside. He waves Sam over since he knows his brother’s been talking to Cas, but Sam swears he has no idea what this is about and Dean believes him; after all, Sam’s a terrible liar.

“… What am I looking at?” Dean asks once they’ve opened the box, because he honestly isn’t sure. Did Cas really mail him shrubbery?

“It’s kale,” Sam explains through a laugh, reaching for the invoice tucked in the back. “Oh, there’s a message.”

“Lemme see that,” Dean says, and he has to bite back a smile when he reads it for himself.

_Dean - I heard from Sam that you’ve embarked on a 'health kick.’ According to my research, kale is a popular food item among health-conscious individuals and celebrities. I will text you the recipe for 'kale chips.’ It sounds promising._

“Dork,” Dean rolls his eyes, but he pulls out his phone and slaps Sam’s hand away when his brother snaps off a leaf. “Dude, get your own.”

“What? You’re gonna hate it anyway.” Sam makes a show of chewing on the bit he’s got and Dean simply frowns at him. Smart-ass, overgrown rabbit.

But as much he hates to admit that Sam was right, Dean takes a brave bite of his 'delicious veggie wrap’ a few days later only to groan “What the hell is kale? Ugh.” It’s a good thing Sam’s too preoccupied to hear him.

 **Dean (11:03 pm):**  dude kale is gross  
**Cas (11:14 pm):**  Are you sure you gave it a fair try?  
**Dean (11:15 pm):**  you know what i actually did  
**Dean (11:15 pm):**  and it’s gross  
**Cas (11:16 pm):**  Very well. How are you feeling otherwise?

Dean complains for half-an-hour about his self-imposed alcohol ban, and maybe it’s because Cas could drink most full-grown men under the table, but the sympathy with which he responds to Dean’s texts is what makes Dean feel better more than anything - that, and the emoticons.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

The second package arrives a week later, delivered by the same guy as before though it’s at least ten pounds heavier and in a much larger box. Sam hovers by while Dean opens it, appearing curious, and their jaws drop open when they find it practically filled to the brim with a cupboard’s worth of groceries.

There are walnuts, blueberries, oatmeal, and a pouch of quinoa. Salmon, greek yogurt ( _fat-free_  greek yogurt), and almonds. Kale is thankfully absent, replaced by a case of non-alcoholic beer, and while Dean’s surprised that the stuff is actually half-decent, Sam mutters something about “not dating, my ass” under his breath. He, of course, gets an almond or two to the head for his input.

Dean spends the next week trying everything in the 'care package’ (Sam’s words, not his) and dutifully reports his feedback to Cas because that’s only polite, right? Dean would’ve done the same for anyone. Really.

 **Dean (9:15 am):**  so oatmeal is alright if i add blueberries  
**Cas (9:23 am):**  That’s good to hear. Should I send you some muesli next time?  
**Dean (9:24 am):**  what the hell is that  
**Cas (9:24 am):**  It is a cereal, developed by a Swiss nutritionist in the late 19th century. It’s very popular, Dean. You may like it as well.  
**Dean (9:25 am):**  know-it-all  
**Cas (9:25 am):**  >:(  
**Dean (9:25 am):**  ok fine send it over

 **Dean (4:13 pm):**  it’s a no-go on the quinoa  
**Dean (4:14 pm):**  doesn’t feel like i’ve eaten anything  
**Cas (4:18 pm):**  Did you bother to season it?  
**Dean (4:19 pm):**  yeah i did martha stewart. still hated it  
**Cas (4:19 pm):**  Well, at least it won’t go to waste. Sam seems to enjoy it.

More packages come in the mail after that, like packets of muesli as promised and Roma tomatoes and whole-wheat bread, which is a travesty. Dean continues to text Cas about everything, and Cas keeps on using Dean’s last name for placing his orders. Dean doesn’t bring it up until he’s in the library at three in the morning, ripping the label off his fake beer while feeling empty and melancholy - and thinking about Cas.

 **Dean (3:09 am):**  why do you use winchester btw?  
**Cas (3:12 am):**  What do you mean? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you asleep?

Dean huffs out a laugh as he types his reply.

 **Dean (3:13 am):**  you use winchester for those peapod orders. how come?  
**Cas (3:15 am):**  Does that bother you?  
**Dean (3:16 am):**  no

There’s no reply but his cell begins to ring, and Dean picks up quickly so as to not wake Sam. “Hey, Cas.”

“If it’s… If you’re not comfortable with it, I can use a different name.”

“No, it’s fine,” Dean assures him. “I mean, you’re family. You know that, right?”

He hears an audible click as Cas swallows on the other line. “I know, Dean, and I appreciate it. How- How are you?”

“I miss you,” Dean blurts without thinking twice, but the words don’t hurt or claw his mouth on their way out. They feel natural somehow, like he’s been thinking them subconsciously all this time - and maybe he has.

“… I miss you too,” Cas says quietly, and Dean suddenly wonders where Cas is right now, and whether he’s feeling lonely, driving aimlessly in his ridiculous car.

“Could you, uh, drop by tomorrow? Or, you know, whenever?” Dean sits up a little straighter in his chair, his bottle condensing on the table, forgotten. “Don’t get me wrong, the packages are great. You didn’t have to do any of that, but… It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. We could…” he trails off to chuckle softly. “We could drink some fake beer. Eat yogurt.”

“That sounds great, Dean,” Cas replies, amused. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Cool,” Dean says happily before hanging up, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he finds himself looking forward to the next day.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

Cas arrives the following evening with a new case of beer, and there’s a bear-shaped container in the crook of his arm - some honey to pour over the yogurt “to add some flavor.” They have dinner with Sam, then move to Dean’s room to talk for hours, and when Dean pulls him in for a hug to convey his thanks, he finds Cas’ lips instead, though neither of them minds one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/109439897275/dean-cas-care-packages)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	5. Save The Last Dance (10.12 Coda)

It’s their fifth or sixth hour in the bunker library, reading everything they can find about de-aging magic, and Sam’s first remark in an hour is an off-topic one that throws him for a loop.

“He’s never been to a school dance.”

Cas glances up from the book he’s been poring over, quirking an eyebrow at Sam. “I’m sorry, I don’t…” he squints as he tilts his head. “I don’t quite follow.”

Sam sinks back in his chair, a kicked-puppy look crossing his face. “See, high schools, they um… They have these dances,” he explains. “Well,  _parties_. And, uh, students go to them, usually with dates. It’s a pretty important social event.”

“I see.” Cas isn’t sure how this is relevant to Dean’s sudden age reversal, but he has a feeling that Sam will get to it, so he waits.

“We never stayed in one place long enough for Dean to make it to any.” Sam is fidgeting with his ballpoint pen, rolling it around with a vaguely guilty expression. “He almost- He could’ve gone, once. When he was sixteen and living at Sonny’s. But then Dad…” Sam’s voice breaks and he tapers off, looking suspiciously watery-eyed and Cas doesn’t know what to say.

“Does Dean,” he tries anyway. “Do you believe it bothers him still?”

Sam lets out a quiet laugh. “He’d never admit it, of course.”  _Of course_. “But it’s put him in a funk before and I don’t think becoming that age again helps all that much.”

“Yes,” Cas agrees, though it only adds to his helplessness regarding the whole situation. He manages a small smile at Sam then turns his gaze toward Dean’s closed door at the end of the hallway.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

It takes a couple of sleepless nights but he and Sam finally track down a counter spell, and once it’s certain that Dean’s not in danger for remaining young for a bit longer, Cas tells Sam that he’d like a few hours with Dean outside the bunker. “Sure thing,” Sam says, giving him a knowing nod. Cas mirrors the gesture before going to look for Dean, eventually finding the teen in the kitchen.

“Dean,” he calls to his hunter, still unaccustomed to his appearance, yet the green eyes that flicker to him over the fridge door are familiar - and warm.

“Hey, Cas. You hungry?” He’s holding up what looks like a packaged block of cheese, and Cas bites back his laugh so he won’t get distracted, or chicken out.

“No, I was… I was wondering if I could borrow you, for the evening.”

“That sounds mysterious.” The cheese disappears from Cas’ view, presumably being put away. “Thought you guys had the spell all ready for me.”

“We do,” Cas replies. “But I was hoping we could go somewhere first.”

Dean frowns a little at that, puzzled by Cas’ cryptic words, but in the end he shuts the fridge and leans against it. “Alright,” he says slowly. “Are we driving there?” He pats his back pocket absently, since his driver’s license still says he’s thirty-six.

Cas smiles and simply beckons him to follow. “I’ll drive.”

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

The clearing next to the park is empty like Cas expected, and light from the moon and the distant street lamps casts the place in a soft, hazy glow. He puts his car in park but doesn’t kill the engine, while Dean just appears sort of bewildered, which is understandable given their surroundings.

“Uh,” Dean says, scanning the lot through the windshield. “You know I trust you, man, but…”

“Trust me for a minute longer,” Cas says. “Will you wait for me outside the car?”

“Out there?”

Dean sounds a bit incredulous - not that Cas could blame him, really - but once Cas confirms his question with a nod, Dean zips his hoodie and does as he’s asked, clearly indulgent. When the door shuts behind him, Cas moves quickly, reaching inside the glove compartment. He plucks out the mix that Sam helped him make last night, and rolls down the two front windows, turns up the volume all the way. By the time he joins Dean beside the hood of the car, there’s something slow and pretty flowing from the speakers, echoing through the air.

“Cas? What’s going on?”

Dean’s eyes are wide - curious, searching - and standing in front of him with both hands clasped behind his back, Cas feels nervous as though he’s become a teenager himself. His legs feel like liquid and there’s an itch halfway down his throat, so he clears it while Dean continues to stare, fresh-faced and beautiful.

“May I have this dance, Dean?”

He hears Dean’s breath hitch, shaky and surprised, and for a second Cas is terrified that he was wrong to dredge up this memory.

“Sam told you,” Dean says calmly, and thankfully it doesn’t sound like an accusation.

“Yes,” Cas swallows hard, still anxious. “Was it- Did I…”  _Did I mess up_  is the question on the tip of his tongue, but before he can verbalize it there are arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

“God, you’re such a…” The sentence trails into a laugh, all of it muffled by Cas’ shirt and trench coat. His arms finally move, coming to curl around Dean’s narrow shoulders instinctively, and when Dean lifts his head he peers up at Cas with wet eyes and dark, damp lashes. “You’re such a sap,” he teases breathily, “and where’re my flowers, huh?”

Cas is honestly  _this_  close to flapping off to a hothouse somewhere, but Dean beats him to the punch again, laughing and pulling him closer. “I’m kidding, babe,” he murmurs fondly, and the corner of Cas’ mouth turns up at the old endearment spoken in this new voice.

“Right. Where were we?” he asks, anchoring Dean with his hands on the boy’s waist. He smiles as Dean moves his own up to Cas’ shoulders, feeling those smaller yet already-calloused fingers linking behind his nape, holding him steady.

“Here, I think,” Dean says shyly, and it’s strange to be looking down at him like this. But it allows Castiel to take in the details of a Dean he never got to know, so he memorizes the freckles, the curve of his cheekbones, his pink lips. He is stunning, as he always is, though in a different way that Cas loves nonetheless. It’s unconditional, the love he carries for Dean.

He bends his head forward to kiss Dean’s cheek, and they start to dance, no real form to speak of. They sway to the rhythm of one romantic pop number after another, and when Dean looks at him during a song Cas knows is called “Endless Love,” his eyes convey everything he’s too self-conscious to speak aloud.

“You’re pretty good on your feet,” Dean says instead.

“Mm, I was worried,” Cas replies. “I’ve never been to one of these before.”

“Better not have,” Dean grins happily, and he rests his head on Cas’ chest, giving Cas the perfect angle to drop kisses into his hair.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

The next morning, when Dean -  _his_ Dean - wakes up, he rolls into Cas and slides an arm around Cas’ middle to nuzzle under his chin.

“I had a great time last night,” he whispers softly.

Cas smiles as he runs a hand along the plane of Dean’s back. “You’re a wonderful date,” he answers truthfully, and his smile broadens once he feels the curve of Dean’s lips against his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/110015794815/dean-cas-save-the-last-dance)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	6. Part Of Your World (Merman AU)

Merman Castiel, both lonely and curious, likes to watch people come and go on a nearby beach. There’s one particular man that catches his eye above the rest: a handsome lifeguard with gorgeous green eyes and a smile that puts sunshine to shame. Cas has to hide behind the boulders, of course, because being seen would cause more trouble than good, but he risks all of that so he can watch Dean during his shift, and from the way Dean chats with everyone and looks after kids, Cas just  _knows_  that Dean’s got a kind heart.

One evening, after the beach has closed, Dean stays behind to take a walk along the shore. Cas emerges from his usual spot because he wishes to be nearer for once. His heart leaps when their eyes meet over the water, and to his surprise, Dean doesn’t run but beckons him closer.

And god, Dean’s voice is so beautiful and soothing. Cas hadn’t heard it before but now he thinks he could listen to it forever. Dean stares and stares, which makes Cas blush and feel warm all over, and Dean says that his mother used to tell him bedtime stories about mermaids and mermen, though he always considered it fantasy. Make-believe. “I didn’t think they’d be so stunning,” Dean adds, and Cas can only duck his head, so very shy.

They meet like that every day, after hours, and Dean even shows up on days he doesn’t work. Cas finds Dean’s interest unbelievable, because Cas can’t talk, let alone leave the water. But Dean seems content just plopping down where the sand meets the ocean, while Castiel sits half-submerged in front of him, happy to learn about Dean’s life and his family. Dean is a fantastic storyteller.

Then one day, as the summer’s fading into fall, Dean comes to him wearing thicker clothes and a sad expression. “Summer’s almost over,” he says. “I’ll have to go back to school in a week,” and Cas doesn’t know what any of that means but Dean looks lost and he feels helpless; he  _aches_. “This is insane,” Dean laughs, a broken sort of sound unlike the bright peals Cas has heard before. “I barely know you. I mean, you don’t  _talk_  and you’re…” Dean runs a hand through his hair and he’s so  _beautiful_. Cas can see the light in him, radiant and captivating. “But these past two months- They’ve been…” He pauses to look up - and Cas locks their eyes because today might be their last - then Dean is leaning in and his lips are on Cas’ and they feel… They feel-

A searing pain shoots through his body like lightning, and he suddenly can’t breathe even though he’s in the ocean. He can hear Dean shout for him - “No, no, no, oh god, please, don’t leave me.” - but Cas just gasps and  _gasps_  for air, clutching at Dean until everything goes black.

He isn’t sure how much time has passed when he wakes up. He’s overcome with shock that he’s even alive. He feels heavier, like there’s an invisible force pulling him down, and a warmth cocoons him the instant that he tries to shift. He jerks his head up, scared and alarmed, but when he does he sees  _Dean_ , his Dean, smiling softly at him.

“Hey,” Dean sighs, shoulders relaxing. His eyes are shiny and wet. “God, you’re okay, I thought… How did…?” His gaze wanders toward Cas’ fin, but when Cas follows it he sees a pair of strong, human legs instead. The clothing that covered Dean’s upper body is now draped across his hips, and he simply can’t  _believe_  it. “I’m,” he starts to speak, freezing at the realization that he can hear himself - out loud. Dean looks just as surprised, but delighted too.

“You can talk?” he asks breathlessly. His hands come up to cradle Cas’ face, and there’s adoration in his eyes as well as concern. “This is because I kissed you? Is this… what you want? I didn’t- Shit, did I ruin-”

“No,” Cas assures him. “No, Dean.”

“You know my name.”

Cas’ cheeks redden under Dean’s charming smile. “Of course I do,” he answers quietly, heart beating so fast, “and mine- My name is Castiel.”

“You know, I spent hours wondering what your name might be,” Dean grins. “Never would’ve guessed Castiel.” He brings one of his hands forward and brushes a thumb over Cas’ lips. “It’s pretty, and it suits you.” He lifts the finger away, kisses him instead, and this time it’s only wonderful - like home. “You really want to be with me, Cas?” Dean whispers between one kiss and the next.

“Yes, Dean, more than anything,” Cas says, praying that this isn’t a dream. His worries subside the moment Dean tucks him against his chest, pressing a kiss into his bare shoulder and telling him, “Good. I have so much to show you.”

 _As long as it’s with you_ , Cas thinks, and like he’s heard him, Dean smiles and holds him even closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/110205755080/dean-cas-part-of-your-world)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	7. On Golden Sands (Lifeguard AU)

Dean doesn’t think he’s panicked this much since Sam fell off his bike in ’91. Yet here he is in the middle of a crowded beach, sweat rolling down his back as he runs a frantic search for his seven-year-old niece. How hard could it be to find a tiny girl in an obscenely pink swimsuit?

Incredibly hard, apparently.

He debates shouting her name, but decides against it given all the noise. There’s plenty of loud music flowing from a nearby bungalow-style restaurant, and that plus the laughter and the sounds of waves swaying back and forth would easily drown out any yelling from one person. Dean scrubs a hand over his face and groans.

“Are you alright?”

The deep, husky voice cuts right through all the miscellaneous din, and the moment Dean glances up, his mind practically blanks itself for a solid three seconds. The man standing before him is a vision of summer with warm, tanned skin, and he’s wearing a white pinnie that does wonders for his arms, all lean muscle and long, strong lines. Dean can only blink, which makes the guy squint, but the expression is one of concern rather than bewilderment.

“I…” Dean blinks once more and luckily finds his bearings this time. “I’m looking for my niece.” He feels the anxiety course through his veins again. “She’s seven and is wearing a, um, god, an  _eye-searingly_  pink swimsuit. I can’t believe I… My brother’s going to  _freak out_ , and my sister-in-law-”

“Okay, hey, take a deep breath.” Dean feels a hand grasp his forearm and the touch, as crazy as it sounds, grounds him immediately. “We’ll find her. You’re okay. What’s your name?”

“My- Oh, it’s Dean. I’m… Dean.”

The guy’s smile is a calming, gentle thing, and with the sun shining onto his backside, there’s something of a halo around his dark, windswept hair. “I’m Cas,” he tells Dean. “How about we walk a lap around the beach? Kids who are ‘lost’” - he emphasizes this with air quotes - “tend to be stationary. They’re usually lingering by the stands or building a sand castle somewhere.”

Dean almost asks how Cas happens to know all this, but then he sees the word ‘lifeguard’ on Cas’ shirt and the friendliness makes a lot of sense. And while Dean is relieved that Cas could actually help with his problem, he’s also disappointed that the handsome stranger’s just doing his job. It’s really an absurd thought that he tries to quell right away.

“What does your niece look like?”

The question jerks Dean back into focus. “She’s four-feet tall. Hazel eyes, blond hair. She has it in a ponytail today and her swimsuit’s got a skirt, like a tutu.”

Cas nods seriously as he scans the chairs and umbrellas, the boardwalk. He squints at everything and clenches his jaw, which Dean notices is covered in day-old stubble that’s too perfect not to be deliberate. He tears his gaze away, though, because the timing couldn’t be more terrible, and instead keeps his eyes peeled for the girl he already misses.

They’re halfway along the shore when Cas points off to the distance and asks, “Is that her?”

Dean follows the length of Cas’ arm to the inner edge of the beach, and barks out a laugh when he sees her next to the ice cream stand. “Damn, Cas, you were right,” he says, shaking his head incredulously. His stomach swoops low when Cas regards him, soft and shy.

“I think she might want some ice cream,” Cas says.

“You might be right,” Dean replies, and starts toward his niece as he calls her name. “Mary! Hey, we promised no running off, sweetheart.”

Mary spins around, eyes lighting up at the sight of him, and instantly launches herself at his knees. “Uncle Dean!” she cries, then adds, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” but she’s smiling sweet and wide and knows the power that her dimples hold. She  _is_  her father’s daughter after all.

“I couldn’t have found you without Cas’ help,” Dean says, and gestures to his right where he spots Cas out of the corner of his eye.

Mary cranes her neck up at Cas, precocious curiosity kicking into gear. “Cas!” she greets, because she’s a kid and friendly to a fault. “Are you Dean’s friend?”

The question startles a laugh out of Cas and, while it sounds fond, Dean is comically worried about his response. “Yes, Mary. I’m a new friend of Dean’s.”

Mary’s eyes widen. “Do you have a girlfriend?” A pause. “Or a boyfriend?”

“Mary,” Dean warns.

Cas just looks completely enchanted by her. “No, I don’t have either.”

Before Dean can stop her, Mary reaches out to tug on Cas’ wrist, and only after he bends down obligingly does she lift a hand to his ear. “My uncle doesn’t have a boyfriend,” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for all three of them to hear.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh my god, Mary,” he sighs, at the same time that Cas asks, “Is that right?” with a winsome smile.

“Uh huh,” Mary nods, ignoring Dean’s chagrin, then grins as she shifts forward until her nose is almost touching Cas’. “Your eyes are really pretty.”

Cas laughs again, as if surprised, and the way his eyes crinkle should be illegal. “Thank you,” he says, before tilting his head so he’s looking at Dean. “I wonder what your uncle thinks?”

A flush spreads over his face so quickly that Dean feels lightheaded, because all he sees is  _blue_. “Uh,” he clears his throat. “Yeah, they’re… They-”

Mary giggles and pokes Cas’ thigh. “He thinks they’re pretty too.”

Cas drops his eyes a little bashfully and it’s honestly the hottest thing Dean’s ever seen. He then lowers himself farther onto the sand so that he’s crouched in front of Mary at her eye level. “Why don’t we all get ice cream?” he asks, and Mary looks like she’s found her new best friend.

“I like cookies n’ cream!” she announces, delighted, and Cas nods before standing back up to hold her hand. Her tiny fingers only make it around three of his, but the sight is adorable and Dean’s heart might be clenching a little.

“What about you, Dean?”

“Hmm?” For the love of god,  _get a hold of yourself_. “Um. Mint chocolate chip?” When he sees Cas approach the ice cream stand, though, Dean extends an arm to stop him. “Hey, no, I’ll get that-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cas smiles kindly, and tips his head at the brunette manning the cart. “Hannah, we’ll have cookies n’ cream, mint chocolate chip, and strawberry cheesecake, please.”

“Sure thing,” Hannah says before grabbing the scoop out of the hot water. She makes each of their cones with practiced ease and walks around to hand Mary her ice cream first. “Here you go, sweetie.” She grins when Mary thanks her gleefully then passes the remaining two cones to Cas. “We aren’t allowed to use our shifts for dates, you know,” she teases, which makes Cas freeze and blush profusely.

“Oh, we…” Cas throws an apologetic glance at Dean. “Hannah, um, we-”

“We’ll wait till the end of his shift for dinner,” Dean finishes, because  _to hell with it_ ; it’s now or never. “Promise!” he adds with as charming a smile as possible, and it seems to work since Hannah raises an eyebrow at Cas like she’s impressed.

Cas doesn’t see her though. He’s too busy gaping at Dean.

“Well, alright,” she says, reaching over to pluck the ten dollar bill from between Cas’ fingers. “Off you go then. You guys have fun!”

“Thanks, Hannah,” Dean replies, guiding Cas away by the elbow. Mary is two steps ahead of them, licking happily at her treat that’s somehow already ending up on her chin.

“I’m sorry about that,” Cas murmurs as he gives Dean his cone. “My friends on the staff can be a bit…”

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean grins, pretending to appear put-upon. He may even be pouting a little. “I’m kinda giving you a flashing neon sign here.”

Cas tilts his head again and pulls this lost-puppy sort of expression that’s too damn cute for words. It’s enough for Dean to grant him another clue. “I wasn’t kidding about dinner,” he confesses, though he feels ridiculously shy about doing so. He watches with bated breath as Cas’ eyes widen even more.

“You weren’t?” Cas asks, and god, he’s endearing. Just unbelievably gorgeous and endearing. He’s paying no mind to the ice cream melting all over his hand, sticky and cold, and a small part of Dean feels rather flattered by that, like he’s got Cas’ undivided attention. “I’m off in an hour,” Cas supplies after a moment. His smile is bright and gummy and Dean’s never liked gummy smiles before.

“There’s a place ‘bout a five-minute walk from here,” Dean says. “A hole in the wall, really, but uh… They have great food. Mary really likes their fish and chips.”

He’s suddenly nervous again, as though Cas might change his mind and back out, but Cas’ weighted blue gaze is nothing if not warm, and Dean can’t remember the last time he felt like this.

“I trust Mary’s judgment,” Cas smiles, then laughs as he finally looks down at his hand, now a mess, “but maybe I should get cleaned up first.” His palm is pink when he lifts it for Dean to see.

Dean laughs and beckons Mary to his side. “Yeah, that’d be pretty unacceptable for work.”

“Not to mention rude if I tried to hold your hand.”

 _Oh_. Dean grips his cone a little tighter, uncaring that the pressure causes the waffle to crack. “Right,” he swallows hard. “That would be rude. Not- Not the part where you try to hold my hand though. That’s… I wouldn’t mind if… you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cas tells him like a promise, and lets Mary curl her hand around his clean one while her other hand reaches for Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/110925634500/dean-cas-on-golden-sands)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	8. Hear My Heart (High School AU)

Dean keeps turning reflexively to his side, expecting to find Missouri and the nimble, practiced language of her hands. What he sees instead is an empty wooden stool, and he fidgets with his sweater as he stares at the clock. He’s never come to class sans interpreter, never really gone  _anywhere_  without someone who could sign. But he’d wanted to try this, to not be conspicuous for once. It’s Home Ec, after all, and he already knows his way around a kitchen. So he’s all set, he really is. No one could persuade him otherwise.

As his classmates file in, however, nerves start to gnaw at the confidence he’s been building up. His eyes sort of dart all over the place, uneasy, and he braces himself while the teacher puts up the seating chart.

His heart  _sinks_  the second he spots his name - and the one beside it.

He’s sharing a station with Castiel Novak, which means they’re partners for the semester, fifteen  _weeks_  of working together. Dean may be a bit behind on the latest gossip, but even he’s aware of Castiel’s unrivaled popularity. Star of cross-country team, Homecoming King two years in a row. Castiel wouldn’t want anything to do with  _Dean_ , who’s reticent, a self-classified nerd, a kid who fills his silent world by diving into books.

Dean doesn’t look up when Castiel slides into the seat next to his. Their teacher walks by to hand out the recipe, and it’s an easy one - fettuccine Alfredo - so at least he won’t have to ask Castiel for any help today. Dean doubts Castiel even realizes that he’s stuck with a partner who can’t hear.

He sits tight until the other students begin herding toward the fridge for ingredients. He’s about to follow when a scrap of paper slips into view, fingers gently bumping his elbow.

 _Hey, I’m Cas_ ,it says, and Dean blinks at the words for a moment before tentatively reaching for a pen.

 _My name is Dean_ , he writes back in his perpetually caps-locked scrawl, and to his surprise, Castiel smiles then leans in close to jot his reply.

 _I know_. His smile widens at Dean’s dumbfounded expression, while his hand continues to move and add  _Nice to finally meet you_  like it’s something he’d been waiting for.

Dean swallows hard, and he waits and waits for the other shoe to drop. He can usually predict the questions that people are itching to ask, like whether he can talk and how long he has ‘been like this.’  _I can_  and  _since I was born_ , he’d answer. He chooses not to speak because he’s afraid his mouth might betray his thoughts, but he won’t mention that or how he wishes he could hear his own voice.

Cas, for his part, doesn’t show any signs of such curiosity. He simply twirls his pencil once then writes,  _Sorry, that came out pretty stalkerish_. He meets Dean’s gaze for a brief instant and the quirk of his lips is truly, unfairly handsome.  _I just meant I’ve been hoping to get to know you_.

Dean isn’t sure what to make of that except to nod, and Cas’ eyes crinkle a little before he lets Dean know that he’ll grab the pasta.

The Alfredo turns out alright. Dean’s made better - it’d have helped if they had more heavy cream - but Cas enjoys his bowl anyway and given all the running he does, Dean isn’t surprised that he wolfs it all down.

They make biscuits, chicken casserole, preserves with apricots and blueberries and a from-scratch peanut butter that Cas seems to  _love_. He takes half of it home and brings a PB &J for Dean the next day, one that’s cut neatly into two triangles and attracts the attention of everyone in the room. Dean can tell that their classmates are whispering and watching them, but he finds himself not caring at all as he takes the ziplock bag and smiles in return.

They also fill up Cas’ notebook, dotted with floured fingerprints and splatters of jam from when Cas taste-tested right over the page. Their conversations jump around from  _I like Vonnegut_  to  _Dean, what’s julienning_. Dean tells him about Sammy; Cas does the same about Anna; and Dean’s heart feels like it might beat out of his chest the day that Cas taps the rhythm of his favorite song out on Dean’s wrist.

He’s scared, to be honest. Scared because Cas is his first real friend outside of family and Jo. And he  _is_  a friend, isn’t he? Sure, a friend that makes him blush every day but a friend regardless. Dean feels safe with him.

He dreads the time passing so quickly, the days flying by and blending into weeks. Far too soon their finals are just around the corner and they’re pulling their last assignment out of the oven, a batch of snickerdoodles that frankly smells amazing.

 _I’ll put them on the cookie rack_ , Cas writes on a green Post-It. He keeps a stack of them in his back pocket now and it’s a thought that turns Dean’s cheeks a little pink.

They help each other with the dishes, hands brushing often as Cas washes, Dean dries. Cas goes back to fetch the cookies once they’re done, and Dean stays behind to re-read their conversation about bees where Cas tried to describe to him what ‘buzzing’ sounds like - or feels like, in Dean’s case.

He turns from the page when Cas taps him on the shoulder, his smile melting into disbelief as he focuses on what Cas is holding. Because besides the Tupperware of cookies, there’s one held separately on a paper towel, and its edges have been cut away to leave behind a rustic-shaped heart.

Dean is so shocked that he almost misses Cas setting everything else aside.

Cas reaches for Dean’s hand, the cookie warm where it touches his palm. Dean stares at the heart, then up at Cas’ face, noticing the nervousness in his deep blue eyes and the cinnamon sugar smudged across his cheekbone. He looks ridiculous -  _ridiculous_  and gorgeous - but nothing… Nothing steals Dean’s breath away like what Cas does next.

Cas signs each word carefully, his fingers long and graceful and the words they form draw a sharp gasp from Dean’s mouth.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

It’s hard to think when his head is thumping with his heartbeat, when Cas’ hands fall back to his sides but continue to flex like he wants to ask it again. But Dean understood the first time, so clearly that he couldn’t have dreamed this (right?) and he feels the soft cookie curl inside his grip as he licks his lips and tries his best to move them.

He can’t hear himself when he says it, can’t even be sure if a sound comes out at all. He hasn’t spoken in so long - in case his voice fails to convey his thoughts - but this time, inexplicably, Dean trusts that his answer reflects exactly what he means.

“Yes.”

Cas’ eyes widen, and he lets out a breath that Dean can see. Dean wonders if the sound is as joyous as it looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/111993441055/dean-cas-hear-my-heart)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	9. Certain As The Sun (Destiel & Cockles)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on [these](https://twitter.com/JensenAckles/status/575115931497574400) [photos](https://twitter.com/mishacollins/status/575119897551724544).

“And you’re… doing well? There’s nothing that requires my assistance?”

Castiel’s brows are knitted together, more out of genuine concern than anything else. His eyes are soft and almost hopeful, like he wishes she would stay, could learn to depend on him more than she does and call more often than once every month, sometimes less.

He knows, of course, that she intends to figure things out for herself, and he’d always respect her choices, she’s sure. But how deeply he cares fills her with a warmth she hasn’t felt in years, so she gently nudges his elbow with a little smile she hopes is fond.

“I’m good,” she assures him. “I already promised I’d call if I wasn’t.” Castiel studies her, still looking uncertain, so she adds, “Besides, you have Instagram to help keep tabs on me, right?”

That finally coaxes a smile out of him, small yet kind and Claire’s chest suddenly feels tight because it reminds her of her dad.

“I do enjoy seeing all your photos,” Castiel says. “You certainly possess an artistic eye.”

“Uh, that would be the filters,” Claire laughs, “and  _I_  enjoy all of your comments.”

The corner of Castiel’s mouth twitches up. “Is that sarcasm?”

“Maybe,” she grins back. “It’s just… You take commenting so seriously, you know? It’s fine to just leave a smiley face; you don’t have to wish for my safety under every picture. I mean, you sound like those parents who check on their…” the sentence tapers once she realizes what she’s saying, catching in her throat and leaving her short of breath.

“Claire.” Castiel steps closer, hands hovering for a moment before settling atop her shoulders. He waits quietly until her eyes lift up then says, “Claire, I… I know I could never take his place. But I’m here for you… for whenever you’ll need me.”

Claire wants to cry so she huffs out a laugh instead, wraps her arms tight around Castiel’s waist and buries her face so he won’t see the tears. He stills for barely a second and then he’s holding her, solid and strong. It’s like how it used to be with her dad and Claire remembers it all like it was yesterday. How she would run to him as soon as he came home from work, how he hugged her as though it was his favorite part of the day. So now, when Castiel presses a kiss into her hair, it’s too much and she feels her cheeks begin to dampen.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs, pulling away and wiping her eyes. She sort of hates how needy and emotional she’s being but Castiel is patient, ever so patient, shaking his head and telling her it’s okay. She doesn’t agree but doesn’t argue either, and Castiel is indulgent when she changes the subject, however abruptly.

“What about Dean?” she asks. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s…” Castiel glances over at the ledge, where Dean is standing, facing the water, his hands in his pockets and shoulders squared. “We’re doing our best,” Castiel concludes, a deep thrum of fondness in his voice that makes Claire wonder just how close they are.

“Hmm. So, what’s next for you two?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest,” Castiel smiles, and Claire senses nervousness there but also something much stronger, more tender. “But I’m glad we were able to make a stop here.”

“Yeah, the sunset’s nice,” she nods. “Hey, I’m gonna go take some pictures, okay?” She holds up her phone and Castiel chuckles.

“Yes, for Instagram. I understand.”

She rolls her eyes, which only makes him laugh, then wanders to a vantage point where she’ll have a better view of the orange-pink horizon. But she keeps an eye on Castiel, who walks over to Dean, calling his name, and watches the hunter raise his arm in invitation, relaxing the instant Castiel slots into his embrace.

She can’t hear what they’re saying to each other, has no clue what Dean murmurs that has Castiel ducking his head all shy. Then Castiel’s hand slides up Dean’s back onto his shoulder, and it’s like the cover of some romance novel and everything makes sense.

They continue to watch the sunset, unaware of Claire coming to stand a few feet behind them. She turns her phone on its side and lifts it up to frame her shot, and she’s still smiling at the photo when the two turn around.

“It’s a good picture,” she explains, handing it over so they can see. They’re silhouetted against a canvas of pretty hues, with the sun centered between them, a bright canary yellow.

“You’re right, it’s nice,” Castiel says, looking at Dean with this… this lovestruck gaze. “Don’t you think?” Their eyes briefly meet, Dean  _blushing_  like some kid with a crush and clearing his throat as if he weren’t obvious. It seems to pain him a great deal to tear his eyes away from Castiel, and only then does Claire notice that they’re holding hands. It’s really sweet.

“Hey, um,” Dean gestures at her phone. “Mind sending that to me?”

“Nope,” Claire grins. “I’m gonna put it on Instagram too, if that’s cool.”

“Insta what now?”

“It’s an application,” Castiel says. “Claire uses it to share her photos.”

Dean looks surprised that Castiel knows this, at which Castiel huffs and takes out his phone. They start debating whether Dean should be more up-to-date on these “matters,” sounding so much like two husbands that Claire has to fight a smile as she opens the app.

She doesn’t bother with a filter; the photo of Dean and Castiel is the only one she posts. And after a moment of some consideration, she decides on the caption:  _My guardian angel and his boyfriend. #Doofs #ThirdWheeling_

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

“I can’t believe you posted that,” Misha grumbles down at his phone. His fingers are typing a reply regardless and Jensen smiles at him, feeling pretty smug.

“What? Kathryn took a great picture.”

Misha sighs as he pockets his phone and rolls his eyes. He looks more like himself now that the filming has wrapped, his hair messier and windswept and the hint of a smile back on his lips. Jensen prefers it this way, because Cas may be Dean’s but Mish is… well.

He shifts closer, not that they aren’t only a foot apart to begin with. Misha lets him, done with pretending to be annoyed, and his smile widens when Jensen wraps an arm around his shoulders again - but as Jensen this time, with no scripts or cameras.

“A manly moment, huh?” Misha teases with a grin. He leans forward until their noses bump, then wonders, “Does this count as a manly moment?”

Jensen laughs and nuzzles his cheek, clean-shaven for the shoot though he misses the stubble and how it rasps against his skin when they kiss. He presses his lips to the side of Misha’s mouth and murmurs, “Yeah, and so does this.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Misha says, despite the way he leans into the touch. He then peers at him with those blue eyes gone soft, and Jensen knows that’s one thing Mish carries over into Cas, inadvertently or not.

Someone clears their throat behind them, and they turn to find Kathryn, in a padded jacket with a grin on her face. She’s holding a phone that looks like it’s her own, and with an expression almost as mischievous as Claire’s, she says, “You know we can’t leave without a jumping pic, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/113280314490/dean-cas-certain-as-the-sun)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	10. Sunday Morning (Daddy Destiel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Easter.

“Daddy, look!” Lily cries, stretching her arm as high as it’ll go. Her small fingers are curled around a chocolate egg wrapped in pink foil, just one of a couple dozen he and Cas hid around the living room last night.

“Hey, great job, sweetheart!” Dean praises her with a grin. Her ziplock bag is about halfway full and he knows for a fact that there’s another egg hidden beneath the lampshade right behind her. “Where do you think we should check next?” he asks nonetheless, and touches a forefinger to his chin as Lily hums and glances around; her tiny frown makes her look just like Cas.

“I don’t know…” she murmurs quietly, turning her doe eyes back to Dean as if she knows he’ll cave and give her a hint. Well, she isn’t wrong, Dean thinks with a sigh. Who’d have ever thought that  _Dean Winchester_  would be at the beck and call of his four-year-old daughter? Certainly not Dean Winchester himself.

“What about Mr. Lamp over there? Have you asked him?”

Lily takes one look over her shoulder and huffs dramatically, which she does whenever she deems the adults in her life completely ridiculous. “He isn’t awake yet, Daddy,” she informs him seriously, because of course the lamp is sleeping. It’s ten in the morning and how could Dean not know that.

“Right, right. My bad,” Dean bites back a laugh. “Um, well, should we try Mrs. Firewood?” - he points to their fireplace - “Or should we see if Mr. Lamp is ready to wake up?”

Lily blinks, clearly considering both options, and Dean’s heart virtually swells with how much he loves his kid. “I think he can wake up,” she concludes. “ _I_  woke up early today!”

“Yeah,” Dean sighs with a shake of his head. He remembers how swiftly Cas pushed a hand in his face when Lily burst into their room and interrupted their frankly  _awesome_ make-out session. “That you did, princess.”

Lily smiles gleefully, oblivious to her dad’s exasperation, and tugs on Dean’s finger until he crouches down beside her. He waits for her morning greeting before switching on the lamp so she can find her chocolate, then guides her toward the fireplace right as he spots Cas out of the corner of his eye.

“How’s she doing?” Cas smiles back, his hair sticking up everywhere and Dean’s  _I Wuv Hugz_  shirt loose and sleep-soft on his body. He sets his tea on the end table so he can slip into Dean’s embrace, and he lets out a low, contented noise at the feel of Dean’s lips pressing kisses into his hair.

“Think she’s gonna find all of them,” Dean laughs against his temple. “We better watch out or she’ll be bouncing off the walls.”

“This  _was_  your idea, you know,” Cas chides playfully, then raises an eyebrow when Dean steps back to hold out his fists. “Dean?”

“Guess which one has chocolate,” Dean grins like a little boy, and there’s so much mischief in his eyes that Cas can’t help but laugh and indulge his husband. He points at Dean’s right hand and gazes up at him through his lashes, but Dean just smiles, totally pleased with himself, and says, “Gotta give me a kiss to unlock and see if you’re right.”

Cas rolls his eyes, though there’s only fondness and he gives in quickly. Dean’s smile is triumphant when Cas leans in to kiss him and he wraps both arms around Cas’ waist to pull him close.

“So, was I right?” Cas asks between kisses. His eyes are soft and beautiful and Dean can’t believe how lucky he got in love.

“Yeah,” he replies, their faces inches apart and noses almost touching. “Well,  _both_  of them have chocolate, actually… I just wanted an excuse to kiss you.”

“Dean,” Cas says, biting his lip and dropping his eyes. “You don’t need a reason to kiss me,” he adds, and as if to prove his point, he tugs Dean by his shirt and captures his lips again, slow and sweet.

“Daddy! Papa!” Lily calls to them after a moment. “Can you help me get the ones on Mr. Keys?”

“Coming, sweetie,” Dean replies with a laugh, before reaching for Cas’ hand and leading him toward their piano.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/115609396490/dean-cas-sunday-morning)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	11. Angel Heart (10.20 Coda)

It takes him a few days to make up his mind, but Cas is prepared - mentally, emotionally - when he takes a trip upstairs to see Jimmy for the first time in years. He isn’t surprised to find that Jimmy’s and Amelia’s Heavens are one and the same; of course they are. He steps over the threshold of the Novaks’ home, the way it was on earth seven years ago, and is greeted by his former vessel, who appears in the foyer and pulls him into a hug.

“Long time no see, Cas,” Jimmy smiles, and a sudden, immense wave of relief washes for him to discover the man at such peace after all this time.

“Yes, it has been,” Cas replies. His voice is much deeper - always has been - and he notices Jimmy huff a laugh upon hearing it. “How are you?”

“Well…” Jimmy shrugs, the smile not leaving his face. “Ames is here now, just as I remember her. We’ve had a lot of catching up to do.”

“I can imagine,” the angel nods. He then ducks his head, suddenly nervous, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I came to see you because I… I wanted to make sure that…”  _To make sure that you were alright_ , he wants to say, but it strikes him as silly now, given all that he’s put Jimmy through.

“I understand,” Jimmy offers first, and there’s a hand, warm and assuring on his shoulder. “I’m well, and so is Ames,” he says, “and in case you’re worried, I still don’t regret being your vessel.”

“Jimmy…” Cas can’t bear to look at him, this  _good_  man who gave everything for the sake of faith, something Cas himself couldn’t hold onto at times. “I could never thank you enough for what you did. Had it not been for you, I-”

“You wouldn’t have been able to save the world.” Jimmy laughs and the pat on his arm is friendly, almost affectionate. “Does that entitle me to asking you a favor, Cas? There’s something… I was hoping you could…”

Cas knows full well what’s on Jimmy’s mind but he lets him continue, eyes meeting blue identical to his own. “Of course. Anything you need.”

“… It’s Claire,” Jimmy smiles again, but it’s softer and a little sad with a strong undercurrent of longing. “Look after her for us? She’s all by herself and still so young. You’re- You’re the closest thing she has to family now.”

“I promise,” Cas replies without preamble. “I’ll be there for her, for whatever she needs. For you and Amelia, I’ll…” he has to trail off, throat feeling tight.

“Thank you,” Jimmy says, eyes bright. “And you know, maybe you could come see us from time to time… Let us know how she’s doing.”

“I will. I can tell you now that she’s…” Cas smiles, thinking of their last meeting, their embrace. “She’s strong, and extremely smart. Stubborn too, but perhaps she gets that from you.”

“Hey, no, that’s all Ames,” Jimmy laughs, but his tone is so light and infectious that Cas can’t help his smile.

Later, when it is time for him to leave, Cas is the one to wrap his arms around Jimmy, attempting to convey his gratitude through the gesture. Jimmy seems surprised - pleasantly, Cas hopes - and when they move apart again, Jimmy muses, “You’ve really changed, Cas. Did Dean do all that?”

Cas blinks, unsure why his heart starts to beat so fast. “Dean?” he repeats helplessly. “I don’t… I’d imagine after a few years, anyone would- Even if it weren’t for Dean… I… um.”

Jimmy grins, appearing far more mischievous than Cas ever could. In fact, it reminds him of Claire. “It’s okay, Cas. You’re a free agent now, remember?” Cas blushes despite himself and Jimmy sighs, clearly taking pity. “Cas, listen. If there’s anything I learned through all my solitude here in Heaven, it’s… It’s that life just isn’t the same when you’re not with the one you love, regardless of how great all the other aspects might be. Make it your priority to be with the person you love. That’s the secret to being happy, Cas. Trust me.”

“I…” Cas isn’t sure how to respond, but Jimmy doesn’t push, just squeezes his shoulder and gives him a smile. It’s the last thing he sees before he departs the Heaven to return to the bunker, where Dean is nursing a beer at the table.

“So, how’s he doing?” the hunter asks. His gaze is curious watching Cas sit down beside him.

“He’s doing well, he… asked me to look after Claire.” Cas pauses then and smiles, turning to peer at Dean through his lashes. “He, um… He also told me something rather interesting.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean leans back in his chair. “What’s that?”

“He said… that I should make it a priority to be with the person I love.”

The bottle freezes halfway toward Dean’s mouth and Dean widens his eyes, staring back at Cas. “… He knows?”

Cas reaches out to gently pry the bottle from Dean’s hand, setting it down on the table. “It would seem so.”

“Huh.” Dean remains quiet for a moment, deep in thought, then grins. It’s a slow, beautiful quirk of his lips. “So. Are you gonna make it a priority?”

Cas studies him, not saying anything right away. He keeps their eyes locked until Dean flushes before finally leaning in to seek a kiss. “Yes, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/117742673525/dean-cas-10-20-angel-heart-coda)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	12. Weak In The Knees (Lists)

**Things That Make Cas Go Weak In The Knees**

  * When Dean gently cradles his face as they kiss.


  * When Dean bends over laughing, loud and uninhibited.


  * When Dean comes up close behind him and nuzzles his neck, chin propped on his shoulder.


  * When Dean calls him “babe” but lets it roll off his tongue so naturally like, “Hey, babe, come to bed. I promise not to hog the blankets again.”


  * When Dean  _does_  hog the blankets again and he steals them back in the middle of the night, because Dean will apologize and pull him right into his arms and mumble “Sorry, angel” before kissing his cheek.


  * When Dean calls him “angel”; ex. “Nah, you pick, angel. I’ll watch whatever you want.” “… Even a chick flick?” “ _Especially_  a chick flick.”


  * When Dean kisses the top of his head as he walks by.


  * When Dean wears a leather jacket…  _any_  leather jacket.


  * When Dean winks at him for no reason because that just  _isn’t fair_.


  * When Dean has to interview witnesses who have kids, and Heaven  _forbid_  that the child’s a girl or he’ll have to watch another tea party where Dean munches on imaginary cookies like a champ.


  * When Dean chooses songs for really attentive reasons like, “Heard you, uh, sing this in the shower yesterday.”


  * When Dean calls him “beautiful”; ex. “Mornin’, beautiful” or “Damn, your eyes are crazy beautiful, you know that?”


  * When Dean uses his lap as a pillow while they watch T.V., dozing on and off but still asking him to keep his fingers in his hair.


  * When Dean uses pick-up lines though they’re already on a date: “I’m not a photographer, but I can picture you and me together” or “Do you have a Band-Aid? I just scraped my knee fallin’ for you.”


  * When Dean sweeps those broad, calloused hands across his body, whispering heated, worshipful sweet nothings against his skin.


  * When Dean makes a detour so they can visit a honey farm and afterward tapes a Polaroid of them on Baby’s dash.


  * When Dean reaches for and holds onto his hand throughout the day.


  * When Dean smiles at him, green eyes crinkled at their corners.


  * When Dean glimpses the shadows of his broken wings during a hunt and later tells him that they’re gorgeous and badass just as they are.


  * Just Dean because, it’s always been you from the start: my lionhearted hunter, my only love, my greatest adventure, my new Heaven.



 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

**Things That Make Dean Go Weak In The Knees**

  * When Cas is still awkward and blushy with pet names; ex. “Shall we, um, watch an episode of  _Star Trek_? Sweetheart?”


  * When Cas wears his clothes and looks infuriatingly good in plaid.


  * When Cas stops to help an old lady cross the street and it’s all, “No, ma’am, it’s no trouble. Have a lovely day,” a total gentleman.


  * When Cas holds his hand beneath the table at every diner.


  * When Cas peers at him through his lashes, pink lips parted after a great kiss, wide-eyed and awed and stupidly gorgeous and “I could kiss you forever.” “I would like that very much, Dean.”


  * When Cas makes it a point to tell him “I love you” before he falls asleep.


  * When Cas smiles at him because  _god_ … it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, or will.


  * When Cas tries to bake for him and gets flour all over the counter.


  * When Cas is grumpy in the morning despite the fact that he doesn’t need sleep, but it’s perfectly fine because there are few things more adorable than a squinty, wild-haired angel demanding snuggles.


  * When Cas gets his smite on because  _holy shit_ , why is that so hot?


  * When Cas heals a broken-winged baby swallow and watches her fly away with a small, contented smile.


  * When Cas looks at him all soft and fond because now, instead of falling into a panic, he reaches over to hook their fingers together.


  * When Cas holds him after his nightmares and the endearments come more easily then: “Shh, Dean… Dean, baby, it’s alright.”


  * When Cas starts to sign the receipts as Castiel Winchester.


  * When Cas caresses the faded scars on his knuckles like they’re beautiful.


  * When Cas kisses along his jaw and murmurs his name all gravel-rough.


  * When Cas hugs him for no reason (spoiler alert: he never protests).


  * When Cas gazes up at a starry night sky then turns to tell him, “Nothing I have seen compares to you, Dean. You’re my miracle.”


  * When Cas kisses him like every moment might be their last.


  * Just Cas because, angel, I’ve finally realized that it’s been you all along and I don’t deserve you but I’ll love you for every minute that I’ve got left.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rebloggable links [here (for Cas)](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/117962538035/cas-counterpart) and [here (for Dean)](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/117962546995/dean-counterpart)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	13. Flowers In The Rain (10.22 Future Coda)

The most prolific are the roses - pink, dark red, exquisite. They bloom across his collarbone and the space beneath his ribs. Their shade bewitches with its vibrancy while their pain is as sharp as thorns.

Not so common are the orchids and lilies, deep purple like midnight and wine. They flourish when his grace is slower to heal, weaker where the Mark is white-hot and pulsing. They come to life on his temple, on his forearms, around his neck. Most often, they appear on his lips as bitten mementos.

They were in Iowa, a tiny rural town when Dean first kissed him. He stood in the way of Dean turning the place into a killing field and found himself pinned to a wall by his wrists. “You’d let me do anything,” Dean snarled against his lips. “You’ll never resist if it means I won’t kill, ain’t that right?” Dean then took without bothering to wait for an answer, calloused hands claiming and hot, all possessive desperation. He remembers closing his eyes and recalling the last time they stood inside a dilapidated barn.

Sometimes - though less frequently with each passing year - he will gaze into Dean’s eyes and catch a glimpse of the tenderness that existed there before. He’ll see a spark of mischievous green; the warmth of a friend and brother; the will of a righteous soul and the remnants of a man with whom he fell in love in the depths of Hell. He sees it in the aftermath when Dean stands over him with fisted hands, or when their bodies are tangled in bed sheets and Dean is above him, staring him down. “Why’re you still here, Cas?” he always wants to know. “I’m a lost cause. You should leave before I kill you. For good.”

“I know what you are, Dean.” His answer is the same every time. “That doesn’t mean I won’t follow you till the end.”

In the past, Dean’s eyes would soften at the words, and Cas hoped almost foolishly that the curse would release Dean, his bright, bright soul. Now, the softness is a mere flash or flicker, quickly replaced by a wolfish grin and, “Well, aren’t I lucky to have my own guardian angel.”

He knows that the Mark is on an unforgiving warpath, that one day, Dean will cease to be Dean altogether. He also knows that he will stay, the angel to his fallen hunter. He’ll be the buffer between Dean and the consequences of his curse. He’ll watch over him and love him for as long as they exist.

He told Dean once - when he’d become human and was confined by the walls of a Gas-n-Sip - that if he ever found a home, he would plant a garden to grow on his own. “I won’t need grace to nurture and care for a life. I believe it will… give me purpose,” he said.

Dean had looked at him for a long, gentle moment then replied, “Sure, Cas. We could plant a garden if you want.” But then he was an angel again, and the bunker was no suitable place for a garden. Even so, Dean’s answer remained nestled in his heart, a reminder of fond affection, making him flush with cautious bliss.

He wonders if Dean has forgotten the conversation; it’s been so long since they shared a kind smile, a playful laugh. But now, peering down at the blossoms on his skin, he supposes he got his garden, put there by Dean and tended by his grace. And as he watches the colors fade away beneath his hand, he murmurs into the void, “I forgive you, Dean. I miss you so much.”

Tears splatter on his skin, readying the garden for a brand new rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/118980714370/deancas-flowers-in-the-rain)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	14. Untitled (Daddy Destiel)

“… and honeybee, there were all these  _sparks_. Like  _stars_  raining down from the sky. And your dad, he just… walked right toward me like it was nothing.” Dean smiles when Chevy widens her eyes, then lowers his voice till it’s just above a whisper. “And between you and me, sweetheart? I was  _really_  scared. I even stabbed him.”

“You  _stabbed_  him?” Chevy gasps. She clutches her teddy bear as she stares up at Dean. “But… it didn’t  _hurt_  Papa, right?” Her voice is quiet and serious.

Dean shakes his head before brushing back her soft, dark bangs. “Nope, he didn’t even flinch,” he laughs. “I’d never met anyone like him.”

Chevy hums thoughtfully, furrowing her brows; the action makes the freckles dance across her nose. “It’s a good thing that Papa’s an angel,” she says, sounding so philosophical that it pulls another laugh out of Dean.

“Yes, it is,” he agrees, leaning in closer to tweak Chevy’s nose. She giggles and squirms further back into her pillows, and Dean is so overwhelmed by love that he just wants to hold her forever, protect her from the world. “Do you know what you call stories like mine and your Papa’s?” he asks.

Chevy tilts her head, eyeing him curiously with her deep green eyes. “A fairy tale?” she guesses shyly. Dean smiles and reaches for her hand.

“Close,” he tells her gently, relishing the way her small hand rests curled inside his own. Above, they hold each other’s matching, adoring gaze, as Dean goes on to answer, “You call it a love story, sweetheart. Love at first stab.” He stifles a laugh as she crinkles her nose.

“I think it’s love at first  _sight_ , Daddy,” she corrects him with a sigh. Only seven yet she’s mastered exasperation thanks to her Papa.

“I think you’re right,” Dean nods indulgently, and when he looks up, he sees Cas smiling from the doorway. “Look who’s here to help me tuck you in.”

Chevy unwraps her arm around the bear so Cas can take her hand and press a kiss to her palm. “What were you and Daddy talking about?” he asks, to which Chevy replies, “How there were sparks when you two met.”

Cas peers at him over their daughter, his eyes so fond that Dean feels warm all over. He responds by mouthing ‘I love you,’ only to duck his head when Cas mouths it back. They take turns kissing Chevy’s cheeks, though Cas speaks for them both with his usual, “Sweet dreams, Princess. We love you very much.” Dean waits till they’re back in the hallway to tug Cas closer so they stand chest-to-chest.

“So,” Cas begins softly. “Sparks, huh?” His eyes are so bright.

Dean huffs, kissing along the curve of Cas’ jaw. “It’s true,” he replies, before kissing his husband square on the mouth. “Still feel ‘em. Every single day.”

“Marriage has made you quite the romantic,” Cas smiles, but Dean just says “No, baby, _you_  did that” and steals another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/119424788200)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	15. Kiss Me (On The Moonlit Floor) (Celebrity AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas are actors who meet as leads in a romantic film. Following the release of their movie, they win MTV Best Kiss. They’re also secretly dating.

The screams erupt before he even has a chance to catch the names.

He claps on reflex, looking to see who he’s supposed to be cheering for. He also wonders briefly if he’s going to lose all hearing in his right ear when Sam jerks on his arm and yells, “Dude, go up there! It’s you!”

“What?” he shouts back, the noise having reached an all-time high. But then there are cameramen and someone else pushing him toward the stage, and at last it registers that he’s won. He and Cas.

“ _Cas_.”

Dean turns to the row behind him to find his co-star rising from his seat. Cas looks good - he always does - but he’s especially gorgeous tonight, his athletic build just delectable in that t-shirt and dark, ripped jeans. Jesus Christ,  _ripped jeans_ ; only Cas could get away with that kind of attire at an awards show. He could don his PJs for the Oscars and they’d probably let him through, in fact drool all over him and beg to know “who he’s wearing.”

But before Dean can laugh at his own suit and tie, Cas catches up to him in easy strides and guides him to the stage, hand pressed to his back. Dean blushes despite himself and tries ducking his head to hide it; Cas, of course, is the only one to notice and his huff of laughter is warm on Dean’s cheek. Good lord, they’re walking so  _close_.

Everything is sort of a blur now: the presenters’ faces, the trophy being placed in his hands. He’s more or less relying on Cas to get them through this, and when they finally reach the podium, Cas leans down into the mic.

“Before we say our thanks,” he starts, the entire room already swooning at his voice, “I believe there’s a little… tradition in order. Isn’t that right, Dean?”

“Huh?” Dean says so eloquently, though with everyone screaming again no one picks up on the tiny mishap. He’s busy staring at Cas himself, his heart racing when Cas steps forward, tugging him closer by his tie.

Dean goes, because this is Cas -  _Cas_ , whose hands are now framing Dean’s face. His lashes flutter and he must be blushing  _so much_  but he doesn’t care. Because wow, they’re really doing this, on national fucking television. Not for a script or for publicity but because they… Cas and him… They’re-

All thoughts fade the moment they kiss, and Dean is thankful that Cas’ hands are shielding him from what must be the  _highest_  pitch known to man. Cas’ lips are chapped and soft, his kiss coaxing yet possessive,  _certain_. It’s so much focus, so adoring, never failing to make Dean melt.

Dean doesn’t mind when Cas’ hands drop to his waist. With his pulse ringing in his head, the screams are muffled like everyone else is far off in the distance. He lets his own hands drift until they’re tangled in Cas’ hair. A whimper escapes his lips but it gets lost in the ruckus, for which he’s relieved.

They only pull apart for the sake of coming up for air, and Cas, forever the romantic, brushes his thumb over the rise of Dean’s mouth. His smile is gentle and cheekily crooked, so handsome that Dean feels like a teenager in love. His fingers are still curled in Cas’ t-shirt, he realizes, the  _Support Your Local Bees_  tee that Dean bought for him at the honey farm.

With a grin, Dean releases the shirt, reaching instead for one of Cas’ hands still curled around his waist. He shifts so the microphone will pick up what he’s saying, keeps his eyes glued to Cas as he asks, “Is it alright if I finish our speech?”

Cas laughs, the kind that crinkles his eyes, and when he replies “By all means” then presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead, Dean can swear that a few people actually  _faint_  down in the audience.

“I’d just like to say,” he smiles, turning to a crowd that’s gaping, maybe crying, maybe both, “that it’s awesome to have a job where you can kiss your boyfriend and call it a hard day’s work.”

And if the kiss hadn’t done it already, the room goes  _insane_ , all gasps and screams. Even Cas looks surprised before his face breaks into a grin. “We’re very lucky,” he agrees with his trademark solemnity, before leading Dean chivalrously off the stage by their joined hands.

Everyone is staring, crew and fellow celebrities alike, but they only have eyes for each other and Cas looks  _moonstruck_ , expression so fond.

“I didn’t think you’d announce us like that,” he breathes. “I thought- I thought the kiss might be too much even if we had an excuse. Dean, I’m just… so…”

Dean touches a finger to Cas’ lips and smiles. “I love you,” he murmurs, face flushed pink and not just due to how hot it is backstage. “I want us to go the beach and not have it be ‘friends hanging out’ in the press. I want to get ice cream with you and go apple-picking and go to car shows and come to things like this holding hands. And when I do, I want everyone to know we’re together, and that…” he drops his eyes and bites his lip, “that I’m yours.”

“Dean,” Cas says in that deep, tender way of his. He tucks a finger beneath Dean’s chin so that their eyes meet, ocean and earth. “I love you, Dean. I love you  _so much_ , I- Nothing makes me happier than to hear you feel the same.”

“Cas…” Dean blushes, because no matter what he does, Cas will always leave him speechless, a little breathless. It’s just the way Cas is - sincere, completely devoted - like something out of a fairy tale and Dean can’t believe his luck, that Cas chose  _him_. “We’re totally gonna be  _that_  couple, huh? The gross kind.”

Cas laughs and kisses a corner of his mouth. “Yes,” he replies contentedly, “I plan to hold your hand and feed you forkfuls at every opportunity.”

“So,  _really_  gross,” Dean crinkles his nose, but he’s smiling bright and happy when he kisses right back, pulling Cas close.

(They’re too occupied to notice the texts from their publicists, an “OMFG CAS” from Charlie and a resigned “I guess that’s one way to do it” from Benny.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/119791663025/deancas-kiss-me-on-the-moonlit-floor)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	16. Untitled (Celebrity AU)

Cas being a YouTube celebrity who uploads book reviews and tutorials for homemade seed bombs. His most popular videos by far are his food vlogs, where he visits famous diners and waxes poetic about their best burgers.

Once he gains a sizable following, his subscribers start asking questions, most of them along the lines of, “Hey, who’s Dean? You’re always talking to him off-camera.” They also ask about the Impala, the “sexy car” that chauffeurs him to all these diners, but it’s Dean who draws  _everyone’s_  interest because of the “baby”s and “angel”s and “Both your voices are seriously hot.”

Eventually, Cas films a boyfriend tag, asks his followers to tweet him their questions. The number is a bit overwhelming but Dean holds his hand and says, “Let me answer the tough ones.”

It turns out they’re all harmless and cute, things like “How did you two meet?” and “What do you typically do on your dates?” The last one is “What do you love most about each other?” and that’s when Cas stutters and blushes bubblegum pink. “It’s impossible to choose,” Dean grins toward the camera, “but if I  _have_  to then, well… I love how caring you are.” He turns to Cas with his warm, green eyes and crooked smile. “You’ve got more heart than anyone I know,” he adds.

Cas nearly forgets that they’re recording as he mirrors Dean’s smile. “And I love that you accept me no matter how weird or dorky I am.” He’s still flushed when Dean tells him, “Aw, thanks, babe” and presses a kiss to his lips.

The video is his first to hit two million views, and by popular demand, Dean joins his food vlogs and offers his opinions on pies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/120555554040/cas-being-a-youtube-celebrity-who-uploads-book)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	17. I'll Pick You Up (Enterprise AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by an Enterprise commercial.

“I can’t  _believe_  you,” Dean hisses at his brother. “You said it was just gonna be  _us_ , Sam. Just us and Jess! Why is Aunt Gertrude here!”

Sam looks pained as he pulls Dean aside, raising both hands in a placating gesture. “Dean, calm down,” he pleads, as if that’ll make any of this better. “We knew you wouldn’t come if I said it was a big dinner and-”

“We.” Dean is  _fuming_. “So, Mom was in on this? Dad, too? What the hell, man?” Sam has the grace to look ashamed but Dean’s so mad, he’s clenching his fists.

“We’re worried that you work too much,” Sam says, and he’s pulled out the puppy dog eyes, the  _sneak_. “It’s only dinner, Dean. Please just stay?”

It’s been this way ever since they were kids and Dean caves at the sight of Sam’s huge, imploring eyes. His own flash bright and angry as he snaps, “ _Fine_ , but I hate you and am plotting my revenge.”

Sam beams while he releases a long-suffering groan.

The hour that follows is an absolute nightmare, starting with Aunt Linda who tries to explain the wonders of Tinder. “You just swipe, swipe, swipe till you find him,” she says, and isn’t impressed when Dean tells her that he’s already on Food Spotter.

Then it’s his cousin who informs him, “There’s this new guy at my firm. He’s, uh… well, you know,  _out_  and I thought-” He doesn’t get to finish before Dean walks away.

Dean’s tired of everyone being so obsessed with his love life. It’s not that he isn’t interested, but whomever he meets, he wants it to be on his own terms, not theirs. He doesn’t  _want_  blind dates or apps or online profiles. Call him a hopeless romantic but he believes he’ll find the right guy when it’s time.

He escapes the backyard with all his relatives milling about, seeking refuge in the living room where his nieces give him hugs. “Uncle Dean, sit here!” Maddy tugs him to the couch. The TV’s playing a commercial and Dean lets her curl up beside him.

“Seraphim will arrange to pick you up,” a voice says. “Drive you to our place and get you on your way.” The screen shows a distraught-looking woman by the road, then cuts to a driver pulling up in a shiny car.

“Huh,” Dean murmurs, feeling a bit crazy but also… desperate. There are still  _hours_  left in the dinner and the coals for the barbecue haven’t even been lit. Besides, the idea’s not the worst he’s ever had and it doesn’t take long to find the number he needs. “Seraphim Rental Car,” a chirpy voice answers. Dean considers hanging up but his brain screams  _Tinder_.

“Hi. I, um, I’d like to request a car?”

“Sure thing, that happens to be our specialty,” she laughs. Her tone is warm and Dean cracks a smile. “What size car will you be needing today?”

“Whatever’s available is fine,” he says. “Just please pick me up as soon as possible.”

“In a bit of a bind?” she asks sympathetically. Dean sinks against the couch as he tells her, “Something like that.” He recites his information, including Sam’s address, sagging in relief at “You’re all set. We’ll be there in thirty.”

“Thanks. What, uh, what’s the agent’s name?”

“Mm,” a couple of clicks on the keyboard. “Looks like your agent is Castiel,” she says.

 _Weird name_ , Dean thinks, but he’ll take what he can get.

The time drags on but he stays hidden with Maddy and Bree. Jess pokes her head in but merely takes pity, bless her heart. When the doorbell finally rings, Dean all but leaps off the couch in his haste. His socked feet skid on the hardwood but he steadies himself before opening the door and-

Holy  _shit_.

“Hi, there,” the agent greets, and his voice is like  _gravel_ , sweet merciful Jesus. “Are you Dean?” he asks with a smile, all gummy and blue-eyed and Dean is staring, totally awestruck.

“Y-yeah,” Dean stammers lamely. He’d expected the suit, just not someone who would look  _this good_  in one. “Um. Come in? I- I need to get my things.” Castiel nods and steps over the threshold.

He tilts his head when Dean doesn’t make a move to fetch said things. “Did you need a hand?” he inquires eventually, and Dean feels like a jerk for what he’s about to ask. “… Dean?” Castiel prompts again, looking concerned but more for Dean than for himself.

“Look, ah, Castiel,” Dean drops his eyes, cheeks flaming. “I… I called Seraphim because… Well, it’s sort of a long story but I just needed a-”

“Dean! Who’s this?”

 _Oh, no, abort_ , abort.

Everyone’s gathered in the foyer, looking at him expectantly, gazes shifting from him to Castiel. Dean, in a moment of panic, grabs Cas’ hand and links their fingers together.

“This is Castiel,” he announces, forcing himself to smile. Castiel hasn’t pulled his hand free, thank god, but he’s rightfully surprised as he keeps their eyes locked.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Dean says, glancing away at last. “I thought if he came by, then you’d all quit bugging me about finding someone.” He stares pointedly at his family who all look vaguely guilty. It makes him feel a bit better until Castiel shifts and lets go of his hand.  _No, please_ , he wants to say, as shameless as it was to dump this on the guy. He doesn’t get the chance to protest, however, because Castiel’s arm winds protectively around his waist.

 _Wait_.

“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” Castiel says, and Dean is  _stunned_ , he never thought- “Dean wanted it to be a surprise.”

Dean is speechless as he meets Castiel’s eyes once more, and all he sees is gentle empathy that makes his heart race.

“A surprise indeed,” Mary says with a smile. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Castiel.”

“Please, call me Cas. It’s, ah, Dean’s nickname for me.” Castiel nudges Dean’s shoulder and gives him a wink. “Right, sweetheart?”

Dean can’t see but he’s pretty sure that his whole face is pink. “Right,” he echoes weakly and tries to gauge if he appears thankful enough. “Well, um,” he clears his throat, placing a palm on Cas’ (very firm) chest, “Cas can’t stay. He has to go back to the office.”

Which, of course, practically incites an uproar.

“Nonsense!” exclaims Aunt Gertrude. “Cas, we insist that you stay for dinner.”

“He has  _work_ ,” Dean pinches his nose. God, he’s trying to give Cas an out here.

“You should go with him,” Jess suggests, her smile uncannily wise. “We can get together some other time,” she adds, and once again Dean’s reminded that she is  _so_  out of the Winchesters’ league.

“Yeah, that’s…” Dean turns to Cas. “I mean, um, is that okay?”

Cas studies him with the sort of focus that makes Dean feel like they’re actually dating. “Are you sure I can steal you away?” Cas asks, and Dean curses the cruel world for having them meet like  _this_.

“Of course, Cas,” he murmurs quietly, pulse wild as Cas takes his hand.

“In that case,” Cas smiles at his family, “I look forward to seeing you again.” He remains polite through the barrage of gushy goodbyes and hugs, until Dean steps in to pull him away and out the door.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

Ten minutes later, they’re sitting in the rental, parked a couple blocks away and secluded by a row of maples.

“So, I suppose you won’t be needing the car,” Cas says. Dean sighs and drops his head into his hands.

“Yeah, I- I’m really sorry, I just… They’re always on my case about dating, you know? I was even tricked into coming to this dinner. By my own  _brother_ , Cas. Can you believe that?”

“I can,” Cas tells him gently. “I have a brother as well, who’s very fond of pranks.”

Dean looks up and leans against his seat, smile small. He feels exhausted like a puppet whose strings have been cut. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “You have to take the car back, right?” He watches Cas nod then stares glumly at his hands. “Thanks for everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” His eyes start to prickle and he takes a long, shuddering breath. He’s pathetic.

“Dean,” Cas calls to him. His voice is beautiful and this will be the last time Dean hears it.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ll… You can just drop me off at-”

“Do you have any plans tonight?” Cas reaches out to cover Dean’s hand with his own.

Dean blinks, convinced that he’d just hallucinated the question. “Oh, I… um, no. No, I’m free.”

Cas smiles and it eases every nerve in Dean’s body. “Then would you like to have dinner with me?” he asks.

Dean gapes. “Are you serious? You- You just saw me in there. I was-”

“You were adorable,” Cas assures him, with an earnestness that couldn’t be faked. Still, Dean feels the insecurities flood his mind.

“You won’t be thinkin’ that for long,” he mumbles, worrying his lip and avoiding Cas’ eyes.

“Let me be the one to decide that,” Cas says, and his smile is soft as he squeezes Dean’s hand.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

Meanwhile, in Sam’s backyard, John and Mary are standing side-by-side, deep in thought.

“That was a nice suit he had on,” John says. He takes a slow bite of his rib then glances toward his wife. “Don’t you think so? I wonder what it’s made of.”

Mary takes a serene sip of her drink and answers, “Husband material.”

(One year later, that’ll prove to be true.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/120865470271/deancas-ill-pick-you-up)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	18. With A Heart On Fire (Firefighter AU)

“How about Sam or Jess?” Charlie asks, voice sounding tinny on speaker.

Dean sighs as he returns to chopping onions for his pasta. “Already asked,” he replies, slipping on glasses to keep his eyes from watering. “He’s at a conference in New York and Jess has an interview she can’t push back.”

“Too bad,” Charlie clicks her tongue. “Could’ve told your kids that they’re Matt Murdock and Lois Lane.”

Dean huffs. “C’mon, Charlie, I need you to brainstorm here. Who else?”

“Maybe Benny? He’s a baker, er _go_  awesome by default.”

“True, but he’s already signed up,” Dean says. “His daughter Sofie’s in my class and I’m officially out of options.”

There’s a brief pause then Charlie speaks again, conspiratorial. “Well, you  _do_ have one other option,” she says. She can’t see him but Dean gives her a pained look nonetheless. “No, Bradbury. Don’t even try,” he warns.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say!” she protests, only Dean  _does_ know and there is no way he’d ever agree. “Dean, come  _on_ ,” Charlie whines. He can imagine her rolling her eyes. “How long are you- It’s been almost a  _year_ , dude,” she sighs, “and he’s dreamy in case you haven’t noticed that either.”

“I’ve… noticed,” he answers softly, resigned. “I just… Charlie, he’s right across the hall from us. We  _always_  run into each other and it’ll be mortifying once he rejects me.” He cringes at the thought alone and moves to set the knife down with a bit more force than strictly necessary.

“Why do you assume he’s going to reject you?” she asks. They’ve had this conversation but he hates it every time.

“You’ve seen him too,” is all he says, along with an excuse about finishing dinner, but by the time he’s hung up the phone, he’s lost interest in cooking his food. He shuts off the stove and takes the trash out instead.

It’s on his way back that Dean notices the package by the door, tucked against his neighbor’s wall and wrapped profusely in hot pink duct tape. He wonders who could have sent it - a friend, probably, or maybe a girlfriend. He frowns.

Still, he ought to let the guy know that the box is there. It’s simple, neighborly duty - the reason Dean finds himself ringing the doorbell to 3B - and he’s halfway to regretting those choices when the door swings open and - “Dean?” - Cas squints at him over the threshold.

“Um, hi… Cas,” Dean greets helplessly, because Cas is standing there bare-chested, barefoot, just bare  _everything_  save for a pair of black sweatpants. “I… I, uh… Sorry, w-were you asleep?”

Cas lifts a hand and pushes it through his hair, dark and wild. His voice is rough when he replies and Dean feels hopelessly weak at the knees. “Yes, I had a two-day shift at the station,” Cas says, and he does look exhausted though he offers Dean a smile, warm and soft. “It’s alright, I needed to eat something anyway. What did you need?”

It takes an insane amount of effort to shift his gaze from Cas to the box on the floor. “I was just bringing out the trash and I- You have a package out here. Thought you might like to know.” He bends down to pick it up and hand over to Cas, who’s come a little closer.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas smiles again, making Dean hope the pink on his cheeks isn’t too bright. Cas’ expression, in the meantime, turns amused when he peeks at the label. “Gabriel,” he sighs, quirking an eyebrow at the copious duct tape. “My brother never learned the art of subtlety,” he laughs, and it rumbles from his chest all low and pleasing. Dean coughs.

“Well, the pink aside, it’s still nice of him to send a care package,” he offers.

Cas shrugs, muscles flexing in all kinds of stupid-hot ways. “Knowing him, this is likely filled with porn,” he says. Dean has  _no clue_  how to respond to that except to blink until Cas flushes too.

“Jesus, that was not appropriate, I’m sorry.” Cas sets the box down inside his door and turns back around, a little sheepish. “I apologize. My brother- He’s gotten the impression that I’m incredibly lonely and the only way I could possibly survive is to watch… other couples…” he laughs and ducks his head. “This is a disaster. The point is, I’m single with a well-meaning but extremely mischievous brother.” He leans sideways against the doorframe, loose and poised, lashes fanning his face. His cheekbones are high, almost regal, while his pants sit dangerously low on his hips, and between all that and the thing with the  _porn_  and him being single… Dean is at a loss for words till he blurts:

“My brother just makes faces and I’ve never been more grateful.”

“Oh, you should be,” Cas laughs, a bright and genuine sound. He locks their eyes with the sort of focus that makes Dean’s heart race, jackrabbit fast. “Have you always worn glasses?” he asks eventually.

Dean reaches up, touching a finger to the frame. “I, um, I wear contacts mostly,” he says. “But I was chopping onions and I needed…” he trails off, waving a hand in front of his eyes.

Cas seems to understand. “I see,” he hums good-naturedly. “Well, ah, don’t let me keep you from dinner-”

“No, it’s fine. Really. I should be calling more people anyhow.” Cas tilts his head and Dean tries not to find it charming. Tough luck. “It’s Career Day tomorrow at school,” he explains, “but a speaker cancelled and I’ve been… sort of rushin’ to find a replacement. It’s too late to email the parents and Charlie’s out of town, so’s my brother…”

Cas furrows his brows, endearingly worried. “What other speakers to do you already have?”

“Pretty great line-up actually,” Dean says. “A vet, my friend Benny who owns the bakery downtown, a children’s doctor, a history prof… Then me since it’s kinda required and the sixth would’ve been a banker.”

“How about a fireman in place of the banker?” Cas asks.

Dean widens his eyes. “I… Are you sure, Cas? You’re not on duty?”

Cas shakes his head, a kind smile on his lips. “It’s my day off.”

“Oh,” but Dean recalls how tired Cas had looked, how he’d clearly slept through the afternoon after work. “It’s your break, though, and I couldn’t… I mean, I appreciate it but-”

“Dean, stop. I’m happy to help,” Cas says. His eyes are crinkled at their corners and it’s like entire oceans are contained within them. “What time should I be there tomorrow?”

His life would be so much easier if Cas were a jerk, Dean thinks sadly, though outwardly he mirrors the smile and says, “Eleven. Room 918.”

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

Cas walks in at a quarter to eleven the next day, wearing his station pants and a matching blue shirt with the FD insignia. The shirt looks comfortable yet hugs his torso in all the right places; Dean fails miserably at his attempts not to blush when they exchange hellos.

“I brought my gear in case they’d like to try it on,” Cas offers, holding up a duffel, biceps flexing and, god, Dean is so screwed.

“They’ll love it,” Dean assures him, pulse racing at the smile he gets in return.

Just as he predicted, the kids go crazy over Cas, which is honestly saying a lot since the previous speaker - the vet - brought a cockatoo who could squawk ‘hello.’ But Cas possesses a gentle patience, a kind of warmth that draws their attention, and by the end he’s on the carpet in a puddle of first graders, listening intently to each question.

“Do you ever get scared?” Ellie asks, holding his helmet in her tiny hands. She blinks up at him with an awed expression and he smiles at her, nodding back.

“Of course,” he answers quietly. “Rescues can be dangerous sometimes. But we work in teams so we can help each other and I check the equipment to make sure we’re safe.” He takes the helmet from her grasp and places it gently on her head. It’s too large and covers her eyes but she tilts it and giggles; he laughs with her.

“What’s the bizarrest thing you’ve saved, Mr. Novak?” That’s Samandriel, shy from his spot beside Bela.

“A guinea pig,” Cas says seriously, opening the gates to a whole new barrage of questions. He has time for a couple more - “How does your mask work?” and “Why’s it always cats that get stuck in trees?” Dean steps in to give him a break after that, prompting a chorus of ‘thank you’s and ‘bye, Mr. Novak’s.

“Can you stick around for a little bit? I just need to take them to the lunchroom.”

Cas looks up from high-fiving Hannah and smiles. “Sure, I’ll start packing up.”

It takes ten minutes to line everyone up and walk them over, and then it’s just the two of them alone in the classroom amidst the quiet. He swallows and goes to stand beside Cas, who’s reading the bright display of book reports on the wall. “You were great,” Dean tells him shyly. “Thanks for, you know, saving the day. I owe you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Cas says, and they’re face-to-face now, so goddamn close. “I had fun, and it’s obvious they adore you,” he adds. His gaze has gone all soft again and Dean scrambles for something to say.

“It was, um, sorta kismet you volunteered,” he laughs. “Charlie said I should ask you but…”  _but I chickened out because I’m crazy about you_. He blushes and glances down at his feet, missing the way Cas’ face falls minutely.

“Right. Charlie,” Cas echoes. “How long have you two, um…?”

“Lived together? Close to five years,” Dean supplies.

“Wow, so you’re… college sweethearts. That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah, wond…”

Dean stops, nearly choking on the breath he just took. He must look as shocked as he feels because Cas is staring, eyes quizzical but also- Sad? Disappointed? “We’re roommates,” Dean is quick to correct. “Just roommates. She has a girlfriend.”

For a second, Cas’ expression is blank, and Dean panics that he’d imagined it all, read him wrong.

But then - oh, god - then Cas just  _beams_ , lush lips, gummy smile, brilliant eyes. He breathes “Good” like a sigh of relief and Dean feels like he’s melting in the warmest of blues.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

Two weeks later, Cas invites both him and Charlie over for dinner, and if Charlie weren’t sold on their relationship already, she definitely is when she catches them holding hands beneath the table.

Sam and Jess meet Cas a month after that, and every time Sam tries to embarrass him, Cas hooks their fingers and kisses his pout away. “We’ve met our match,” Jess declares, while Sam just groans his defeat into a salad.

And when Gabriel flies in to visit one weekend, it barely takes an hour before he says, “Return my gifts.”

It’s not always easy, of course, given Cas’ job and what it requires. Dean finds himself unable to watch the news, to  _breathe_  sometimes, knowing the kind of scenarios Cas has to brave and does willingly. But the moments that follow are that much sweeter because of it, when Cas comes home to him safe and sound and calls him “baby,” pulls him close. When Dean can brush his thumb over the soot on Cas’ cheek, and happily kiss him back again and again in Cas’ arms.

And two years later, Dean takes his students on a field trip down to the station. They all gasp when Cas walks out, no doubt recognizing him from the wedding picture on Dean’s desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/122093248067/deancas-with-a-heart-on-fire)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	19. At Last (June 26, 2015)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written to celebrate the Supreme Court's ruling on same-sex marriage.

Cas has never been a morning person - not in college when all his intro classes started at eight forty-five, or during his residency when the section chief would page everyone around the clock. Even now, on Friday morning, he’s cocooned in the sheets and out like a light. Dean smiles as he sits on the edge of their bed, leaning down to press his lips to the stubble on Cas’ cheek.

“Hey,” Dean murmurs softly, pulling back the covers to coax him awake. Cas stirs at the cool air hitting his skin while his eyes blink open, a brilliant blue.

“Hmm?” he shifts to lie on his back, voice rough while his fingers are warm around Dean’s wrist. “What is it?” he asks confusedly, but Dean just smiles and kisses him again.

“I would’ve let you sleep,” Dean says against his lips, “but there’s some news and we… um,” he pulls back then, trailing off.

Cas must notice the brightness in his eyes, because he sits himself upright before tugging Dean closer. “What is it?” he inquires gently, and Dean tries to laugh so he won’t cry instead. It comes out a quiet, shaky thing and Cas simply waits, ever-so-patient.

“We…”

Dean’s heart pounds away inside his chest.

“We can get married,” he finally breathes, and it feels like a miracle, saying this to Cas. Cas, who’s staring back, mouth parted in surprise. Castiel Novak, his best friend, who doesn’t reply so much as kiss him all deep and adoring and…  _Jesus_ , he’s so in love.

“Really?” Cas cradles Dean’s face between his hands. “I’m not dreaming, am I? Dean, we… I can-” He brushes a thumb over the curve of Dean’s cheek, almost reverent.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs happily, laughs when Cas leans in for another kiss. Every touch feels new and  _different_  somehow and all of it grounds him, tells him he’s loved.

“Who do you want to call?” Cas asks as they settle against the headboard. His shirt is soft where Dean rests his cheek, content.

“I actually woke up because Sam texted me,” he says. “Fifteen messages in a row and six were just… exclamation marks.”

The rumble of Cas’ laugh caresses his hair, down to his temple. “We should go to dinner tonight, the four of us,” he suggests. Dean nods, snuggling closer as he answers, “I’ll tell Jess.” He can tell that Cas is smiling, welcomes the embrace when Cas wraps an arm around him, because he needs it, needs the togetherness, for what he’s about to share next.

“My, um, my dad called too.”

Cas stills and there’s an audible click as he swallows. “What did he say?” he asks, then adds, “Are you okay?” When Dean is quiet, he lifts his hand to Dean’s hair, petting him gently.

“He…” Dean starts, still breathless at the thought of the phone call. “He asked if I was happy. If being with you… makes me happy.” He feels the nervousness that thrums through Cas’ body at the words.

“Do I…?” Cas begins, then pauses to clear his throat. Dean hears the quickening of his heartbeat as he asks, “What did you tell him?” Dean smiles into Cas’ shirt.

“I said you make me happier than I’ve ever been,” he says, finding it incredibly endearing how Cas relaxes, like it were possible for Dean to reply with anything else.

“He also said he’ll be there… if we invite him.”

Cas’ hand drops back to his shoulder, squeezing tight. “I’ll put him at the top of the list.”

Cas’ family calls during breakfast, minutes before they pick up the phone to do it themselves. The room fills with excited shouts and a million questions like “When’s the date?” but Dean can’t quite focus with Cas standing behind him, kissing his nape.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

Later at the hospital, while on his lunch break, Cas opens his email to find a message from John - his very first. He’d been emailing John for years, since Dean came out to his family about their relationship in college. He sends short updates, attaches photos of him and Dean from trips and holidays, all as if Dean and his father weren’t estranged and, well.

John has never responded before.

It’s a reply to his most recent email - one with a picture of Dean from two weeks ago at a classic car show, by a row of Impalas. It’s just a sentence, no familiar greeting or signature, but it’s enough. More than enough.

_Thank you for making him happy_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/122539972305/deancas-at-last)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	20. Not Afraid Anymore (Coffeeshop AU)

Dean’s café, with its forest-green storefront, sits on a street that runs between the college and the town. Always aglow with warm, golden lighting, it’s a popular haunt with students and locals, and over the years built a loyal, almost protective customer base that makes up for long days and the stresses of owning a business. Among his favorites are Bobby and Karen, who sold their diner across the street but still drop by for their midday coffee; Charlie, who comes at seven am or pm depending on work; and officers Donna and Jody and Victor, who are in charge of picking up the coffee and pastries for their department.

New faces also come and go: a wave of freshmen every fall and graduates every June. Getting new locals is far less regular, though it happens from time to time, and while Dean doesn’t expect them to join his list of favorites right away, he’s pleasantly surprised by a precocious little girl one afternoon.

She’s only a few inches taller than the counter, curls both hands around the ledge and blinks her beautiful, ocean-blue eyes up at Dean. He smiles as he bends down slightly, resting his forearms on the counter as he offers, “Hi, there.”

“Hi,” she echoes shyly. The blush tinting her cheeks is utterly endearing.

“Welcome to Hey Brewed. What can I get for you?”

“Um,” she clears her throat. “I would like one small green tea lemonade and one medium iced coffee to-go, please.” She places the order in a single breath but doesn’t sound nervous; she’s done this before.

“Sure thing,” Dean smiles back. “That will be… $6.65.” He takes the ten she holds out in small, marker-stained fingers and returns the change with extra care so the coins won’t slip from her hand.

He keeps an eye on her as he makes the drinks, a part of him wondering where her parents might be, but then she runs up to a man by the door, dark-haired with that same pair of striking blue eyes. Now, Dean would be lying if he said the guy didn’t - quite literally - steal his breath away. From his build to his plump pink lips the dad is gorgeous, no question about it.

His daughter runs back when their order is ready, chirps a charming ‘thank you’ as she carries both drinks. She meets her dad by the sugars and straws, laughing brightly when he ruffles her hair, and they make such a sweet picture together that Dean needs a nudge to escape his daze. “You okay, Dean?” Samandriel asks. Dean gives a grunted, non-committal answer and by the time he turns around, the pair is gone.

They come back, though, every couple of days. The girl orders, waits with her dad, and they pick up their drinks - always to-go. Eventually, Dean asks for her name, so he can call it out as he seals her cup. “My name is Stevie,” she grins at him, “and my dad- His name is Cas.”

So, from then on it’s “Iced coffee for Cas,” plus something new for adventurous little Stevie every time. And every time, Stevie shares a small detail about her and her dad, like how they raise honeybees behind their house and how the tent in their living room is for playing boardgames. Dean, for his part, pays close attention, borrows the stories to doodle on the sides of Stevie’s cups. They’re constellations, the Monopoly mascot, as many fat guinea pigs he can draw in sixty seconds. Stevie’s favorite is a bee with a talk bubble that says, ‘You’re the bees’ knees!’ It seems to be Cas’ favorite too, based on how he smiles at nods gratefully at Dean.

Dean always wishes they’d stay a bit longer - maybe take the couch or a table by the window - but they stick around for just minutes at a time, which doesn’t change till months later on a rare, rainy summer day.

Stevie dashes in first, wearing pink rain boots and a slicker with bear ears attached to the hood. Cas follows closely behind and folds his umbrella before waving at Dean. His hair is damp with the rain outside, sticking up where he obviously combed a hand through the strands. His cheeks are flushed from the cold, his eyes so goddamn blue, and Dean just blushes although he waves back, if anything to see the soft quirk of Cas’ lips.

“Dean!” Stevie greets, hurrying over to him across the hardwood. Dean emerges from behind the counter so he can catch her in case she slips, but she makes it safe and sound and proceeds to wrap both of her arms around his waist. “It’s grey outside,” she sighs morosely, her face snuggled against Dean’s stomach. He chuckles when she shifts back a bit, peering up, chin touching his shirt. “We missed you.”

Dean feels a warm, heavy pressure on chest at the words, reaches down to push the soft, soft hair out of her eyes. “I missed you guys too,” he replies honestly, because dozens of things remind him of Stevie throughout the day, and every shade of blue reminds him of Cas, of both their smiles.

And to think it’s only been a few days since he’s seen them.

“What would the two of you like today?” he asks. He tamps down on the whirlwind of emotions for now.

“Two hot chocolates!” Stevie exclaims. “We’re going to drink them here.”

“Yeah?” Dean blinks in surprise, and sure enough, when he glances up, he finds Cas shrugging out of his jacket. It’s sort of ridiculous how happy that makes him, though he tries to calm his hammering heart. “I’ll bring them right out,” he says to Stevie, then gestures to the tables and chairs. “Have a seat.”

Cas helps Stevie with her still-wet coat, lets her bound away toward the navy blue couch. They sit after putting all their rain gear on the floor, while Dean heads to the kitchen to grab the marshmallows for their drinks.

“He’s back, huh?” Jo asks. She grins at him over the mixer.

“Wh-what? Who?” Dean stammers helplessly. He lingers by the fridge as Samandriel huffs and pokes his shoulder.

“You won’t find any marshmallows in there,” he says, wriggling his baseball cap and heading to the door. “I’ll go take care of them, okay? You stay here and let Jo convince you to ask him out - again.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Jo snaps for his attention, but her face goes soft at his weary expression. “God, don’t look at me like that,” she sighs. “Seriously, the guy is  _into_  you. Please just trust us and take him to dinner.”

“We haven’t spoken a word to each other,” Dean says. It’s been months but he still hasn’t heard Cas’ voice. “He’s just being polite because Stevie likes it here and that’s why-”

“Uh huh, that’s why he looks at you like you’ve hung the damn moon.”

“Jo, come on,” Dean groans, raking his fingers through his hair. He sighs, “I’m gonna go check on them” and decides to ignore Jo’s knowing smirk.

Stevie is happily sipping her chocolate, Samandriel’s at the counter helping someone else, but Cas is staring down at a small slip of paper and his mug sits steaming and untouched on the table.

“Did Samandriel give you enough marshmallows?” Dean asks, smiling when Stevie nods and beams through the whipped cream mustache on her lip. “How about you, Cas?” he adds more quietly, but Cas doesn’t look up and Stevie widens her eyes.

“Daddy,” she calls softly, lifting a hand to tug on his sleeve. Cas turns to her, then turns to Dean, pink dusting his cheekbones and eyes equally huge. He looks away before Dean can grasp what’s happening but Stevie sets down her cup and moves to sign at him and-

Oh.

She signs gracefully like it’s second nature, her motions gentle and calm and unhurried. Cas watches with patient focus and his own hands are  _beautiful_ when he replies.

“Dean, um, do you have a pen?” Stevie asks. Dean pauses but reaches for the ballpoint in his jeans.

He hands it to Stevie, who hands it to Cas, who jots something down on the Post-It in his lap. His eyes are bright and maybe vulnerable when he passes the note over to Dean, and Dean feels hot to the tips of his ears once he reads it - the first part in what is undoubtedly Samandriel’s writing:

_Will you bee my date to dinner tonight?_ - _Dean_

God, a  _bee_  pun. That kid is so fired.

On the other hand, he’s distracted by Cas’ response, written in all caps and not as neat but making his pulse ring loudly in his head.  _I’m very flattered, Dean_ , it reads.  _But are you sure?_ _ ~~I’m not~~_ _I may be far from your usual dinner date_. Uncertainty exudes from every word, every letter, and Dean wonders who might’ve hurt Cas in the past. His heart would clench at any other time but now it’s too busy racing, pounding in his chest.

Because he’s head over heels, as unbelievable as that sounds,  _has been_  for the past three months. And as unexpected as this is, it turns out to be an impetus more than anything; he’s almost glad for his employee’s nosiness when he writes his reply with a shaking hand:

_I’ve been sure since the first time I saw you_.

 

◇ ◇ ◇

 

Meeting at his café is the only thing that doesn’t change in the following months. Everything else, Dean thinks with a smile, everything else is a thousand times better. The three of them sit by the window, whether it’s sunny or raining or grey, and afterward they’ll go for dinner or walks in the park, ending the night with a few rounds of Scrabble in Stevie’s tent. And when she goes to bed, Cas takes his hand, and they talk on the couch until their eyelids droop. Dean puts their mini whiteboard away to gather Cas in his arms, to kiss his hair, and he’s amazed by how his life has changed, how his unassuming coffeeshop brought him his soulmate.

When autumn returns, Stevie starts second grade at her new school, and Cas begins his job at the local deaf school as a math teacher. It’s not always easy, of course, but Dean’s there for him on his good days, to hold and reassure him on bad ones. It all falls together on a particularly good day in October, when Cas is leaning against his shoulder and Dean thinks to himself,  _I’m in love_.

Cas feels him go still and pulls away, nose crinkled and head tilted like a puppy (god help Dean). He reaches out to cup Dean’s cheek, eyes full of questions and something adoring, and Dean manages to pull it together, long enough to kiss him and pour everything he’s got into the touch.

Cas gasps a surprised but enthusiastic noise, clutches Dean’s shoulders and kisses right back. Dean winds his arms around his waist to hug him close, nearly shifting the guy onto his lap on the couch.

“I love you…” Dean murmurs, and Cas stares wide-eyed when they move apart to breathe.

“I love you,” Dean tells him again, but this time signs the words on Cas’ chest, slow and sure.

_You do?_  Cas replies, and then in awe,  _You learned to sign_.

_Yes and yes_ , Dean smiles.  _Stevie’s a good teacher, and I love you_.

_You already said that_ , Cas huffs, leaning in to brush his lips against Dean’s.

“I know,” Dean whispers happily.  _But I want to tell you. Every single day_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/123749089900/deancas-not-afraid-anymore)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	21. Be Home Soon (Single Dad AU)

“Text me when you’re at your gate,” Dean says, hitching his daughter further up on his hip, “and when your flight takes off, and also when you land.”

Cas huffs a fond laugh. “I’ll have to put my phone in airplane mode.”

“Uh, right,” Dean ducks his head down, blushing pink. “Well, um-”

“Daddy,” Zoe whines, wriggling in Dean’s arms to catch his attention. She has one hand fisted in his shirt, while the other reaches out toward Cas. “My turn to say bye to Cas,” she declares.

Dean’s about to remind her that she already said goodbye in the car, but Cas just takes her hand and presses a soft, soft kiss to her palm. “Bye, princess,” he crinkles his eyes. “I’ll be back soon. Just five days, okay?”

Zoe frowns and pouts. “Do you pinky promise?”

Cas nods gravely. “I promise, your majesty.”

Zoe giggles, delighted by his answer, and extends her little pinky so Cas can interlock hers with his. “I’ll miss you,” he tells her, blue eyes so wide and kind and earnest. She murmurs “I’ll miss you too” and snuggles into Cas’ chest when he goes to hug her.

They wait for Cas to get through security, both waving furiously while Cas grins and waves back. Their walk to the parking garage is certainly, inevitably subdued and Zoe is quiet until Dean finishes buckling her seatbelt.

“I don’t like saying bye to Cas.”

Dean smiles and ruffles her hair. “I don’t either, baby, but this is just a short trip. We’re coming back here on Sunday to pick him up.”

“And he’ll go to his house?” Zoe asks somberly.

Dean lets out a soft laugh. “Of course, he’ll go to his house.”

Zoe slumps in her seat. “I want him to come to our house. I want him to stay. Can you marry him, Daddy?”

Dean possibly turns red to the tips of his ears. “Zoe-”

“I asked Mommy if boys can marry boys and she said they can.”

“You asked your  _mom_  about this?”

“Uh huh,” Zoe nods excitedly, “and then she asked if you’re marrying Cas.”

“Of course she did,” Dean shakes his head, recalling one of the most crucial yet terrifying conversations of his life. Two months after Zoe was born, and a year after he and Zoe’s mom had gotten married straight out of college, Jo sat him down and said, “You should let me go while I still have time to find my person.  _Yours_  is four blocks away, Dean, so don’t be a chickenshit.”

And that’d been like a giant, LED light bulb turning on, although Dean couldn’t work up the courage to  _do_  anything for another few years.

“I don’t know, Zoe,” Dean smiles playfully. “Usually, when you want to marry someone, you ask them first.”

“Then ask Cas!” Zoe exclaims, small, skinny legs swinging back and forth. “Ask him when he comes back.”

“Okay, sweetheart, we’ll see,” Dean says, sticking his key into the car’s ignition. Zoe doesn’t look fully satisfied by this but laughs all the same when Dean leans forward to tickle her tummy.

The truth is, he and Cas have been dating for almost a year, ever since they went on a camping trip and Dean managed to find the guts to kiss his best friend by the water. He’s suddenly glad that they never told Zoe - which was Cas’ idea, just in case things didn’t work out as they’d hoped. The concern was futile, of course, for they’d already been in love for years.

But he’s glad because Zoe will be so happy about the news, and thinks about the ring he’s got tucked away in his sock drawer. He thinks about how he’ll get down on one knee and ask Cas to marry him this coming Sunday, and drives home humming along to the Disney tunes Zoe sings beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/128135527200/deancas-be-home-soon)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


	22. Untitled (TFW + Claire)

Claire outwardly complaining about Dean and Cas, how totally sappy and gross they are, but inwardly she sort of loves it because they’re really a family now.

Claire taking selfies where Dean and Cas are in the background, usually doing a ton of staring and making heart eyes at each other. They don’t notice her taking these but  _Sam_  sees and joins in occasionally. There’s one where they’re making vomit faces while Dean has Cas crowded against the kitchen counter. There are pancakes burning beside them and when Claire posts it on Instagram, she puts, ‘Dads burned breakfast again! We ate cereal for the fifth time this week.’

Claire getting really sad when Dean and Cas argue because the bunker gets so quiet that it’s actually unnerving. Sam tries taking her out for mini golf, except it doesn’t help since that’s her and  _Dean’s_  thing. When Dean and Cas realize how she’s feeling, they apologize profusely and pull her in for a hug. (Sam goes for it too because, well, it’s a  _hug_. They’re all making up for lost time.) Dean and Cas take a cue from the incident to not have Claire hear any future arguments. They resolve it right away or go for a drive so they can talk, while Sam and Claire find an activity that’s  _their_  thing, which turns out to be: going to craft fairs.

Claire being pretty skeptical at first because… a craft fair sounds kind of boring. But she quickly falls in love with browsing for trinkets and later decides to make crafts herself. She has a knack for jewelry and accessories, makes Cas a pair of bee-shaped cuff links. She also gives Sam a moose-shaped charm for his key ring and Dean a little put-put golf club that he hangs on Baby’s mirror.

Claire having a family to hug, to wish her sweet dreams, before she heads off to bed every night. One wall of her room is covered in selfies she printed out, and there’s a proper family photo on her bedside table, framed and all. She says hi to Mom and Dad up in Heaven and tells them about her day, how they might be adopting a dog (Dean’s nearly persuaded). She says “I love you, I miss you” like always and snuggles with Grumpy Cat under the covers. She drifts off to sleep with a smile on her lips, warm and loved by two hunters and an angel. She has peaceful dreams, knowing that Cas, Dean, and Sam are just a few doors down, protecting her, looking out for her, and giving her a second chance at family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rebloggable link here](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/129103613510/claire-outwardly-complaining-about-dean-and-cas)
> 
> Kudos, comments, and love are appreciated! Please subscribe to the fic for chapter updates. :)


End file.
